Page 102 of Retaliation

“If I didn’t, I’d be in jail already.”

“Then it’s a great service you’re doing for your country,” he answered with a chuckle.

A moment later, he returned to the bed with two cups of steaming coffee.

“You want to have it here, or can I help you to the balcony for a smoke?” he asked, hovering next to the bed.

“Some fresh air sounds great. Thank you,” she said with a smile.

Turning to the sliding doors, which lead to the balcony, Scorpion walked ahead to place their mugs on the table outside. The moment he had turned his back, Poison got up from the bed, sliding her bare feet to the concrete floor.

Standing, she tested her sore ankle, and the wraps

around it gave the needed support not to feel too much discomfort.

Luckily, it was a very mild strain, and she’d be running in a day or two.

The stitches after the surgery were still tender, but she could move without any restriction. The only limitation she had left was Scorpion, which he proved by giving her a disappointed glare when he turned around and saw her on her feet.

Stalking to her as if she were prey, and he had a hunger that only she could quench, he scooped her into his arms and stared down at her.

“What did I say about walking?” he growled, his eyes darkening, and she had to stop herself from squirming in his arms.

“I have legs, you know!” she giggled as he walked them to the balcony.

“Oh, I know,” he said, his voice dangerously low as he placed her ass in a chair, the cold metal biting into her thighs.

Despite the cold night air, and only wearing his t-shirt and a pair of boy-cuts, she had the urge to fan her face.

His eyes lowering to where his hands lingered on her thighs, and, as he straightened, allowed his fingers to trace down to her knees. She tried her best to ignore the hunger burning in his eyes.

They stayed and talked on the balcony, diving deeper into the demons they shared, the goals they had yet to achieve and watched the sun rise.

By six o’clock, Scorpion had carried her to the bathroom, where he had helped her into the shower against all protests from her side.

It had quickly become their routine. He’d help her inside but never joined. She knew she had to let her body heal but fuck, it was difficult to keep her hands off him when he so eagerly walked around the loft in nothing but grey sweatpants.

Once she had dressed and put on a thin layer of makeup, Scorpion was waiting for her, leaning against the doorframe. He had swapped his sweatpants for black cargo pants and a simple black t-shirt.

“You ready to head downstairs?” he asked, his eyes traveling the length of her body where she sat in front of the mirror, and his gaze left a burning inferno in its wake.

“If you promise not to carry me?” she asked, rising from her seat.

Scorpion’s lips curved into a smirk, but his eyes remained intense.

“Sure,” he agreed, though his voice held a hint of reluctance. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “Deal.”

She felt his presence behind her, a comforting and electrifying shadow as they made their way downstairs.

Each step was deliberate, her ankle holding steady, yet her heart raced. She stole glances at him, noting the way his muscles rippled beneath the tight fabric of his shirt, the way his jaw tightened with each step she took without his help.

At the bottom of the stairs, the sound of voices reached them. Skeldon and Cat were already there, their figures shifting through the frosted glass of a room at the back of the building.

She hesitated, but Scorpion’s hand found the small of her back, his touch grounding and possessive.

“You’ve got this,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

---