Page 10 of Leif

I watched him pour alcohol on the graze without so much as a grunt of pain. It was as if he didn’t even feel it, where most people would have been at least gritting their teeth and growling in agony.

This guy was trouble. I sat up, slowly so as not to let the bed squeak under my weight. Ever so stealthily, I slipped off the edge of the bed, my sights set on a heavy-looking vase resting on top of a lace doily on a table. All the while, I strained my ears, searching for any slight sound that might tell me if we were alone or not.

I didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean anything. I’d learned my lesson with the last guy. He hadn’t been alone either. Finally on my feet and relieved that I hadn’t been undressed or anything—not that it would have stopped me from fighting for my life—I inched toward the heavy vase. Without my gun, I felt naked and more vulnerable than I’d like to admit. Sure, it made me feel safe. But without it now, I needed to be my strongest.

The vase, a blue and white thing that my grandma would have loved, had a hell of a heft to it as I wrapped my hand around the thick ceramic and lifted the thing up by the neck.

“Grab the gauze, will you?”

I froze, staring at him. But he didn’t so much as look at me. But we were alone, so who else would he be talking to?

I glanced over my shoulder, then scanned the room, wondering if I’d missed something.

“This is hard to do with one hand.” He mopped up the alcohol and mess, cleaning up his arm as the wound gushed fresh red blood.

Still, I stood as if rooted to the floor, unsure what to do next. His golden eyes finally met mine, and I couldn’t even breathe as his lion-like gaze locked on my face.

All the tension melted out of my shoulders and swept down toward the floor before dissipating into nothingness.

“How…” My voice was barely louder than a whisper. I cleared my throat as he waited patiently for me to continue. “How did you know I was awake?” I knew I was being quiet. Still, as my heart thundered in my throat, I stared at him. His broad shoulders invited my gaze to wander, and I did so, tracing down his powerful, turned frame. His ribbed abs were tight as could be, and here and there, freckles dotted his skin.

He lifted his chin a bit, amusement shining in his eyes as his deep voice washed over me like honey. “It’s the first time you’ve stopped talking.”

The first time I stopped talking? What had I said to this stranger while I was sleeping?

I had no idea I talked while asleep, but I’d never had anyone sleep with me, so who would have told me that I talked in my sleep? Still, I couldn’t shake the fear that gripped at my throat. What had I given away about myself? I needed to be on guard with this guy even if he felt oddly safe.

I set the vase down with a soft thud on the lace doily before crossing my arms. “Oh, yeah?”

He watched my every move, and I wondered if there was anything he didn’t notice. The guy acted and moved like a cop. His gaze met mine and he nodded while pressing a gross, bloody bit of gauze to his arm.

“Who shot you?” I jerked my chin toward his wounded shoulder.

“One of your friends.” He didn’t even look at me this time as he let the gauze stick to the wound and pulled out a tube of cream from the open first aid kit before him. He placed the cream on his leg before tending the gauze again. Blood seeped from the cloth and ran down his arm while I watched, still nervous about approaching.

“They weren’t my friends.” Was he just saying that to put me at ease? Was he with them? Somehow I still didn’t think so. That didn’t make sense. Why would they shoot someone that was on their side?

“Great. Then the enemy of your enemy is your friend. So come help a friend out.” His golden eyes met mine, and a shiver tickled down my spine.

“Who are you?” I needed to know more, if only to silence the discomfort in my gut. Something wasn’t right here. There was more to this man than he was telling me.

“Leif. And you’re Officer Melanie Jacobs. Are we going to hang on formality?” His eyes narrowed.

I ignored his comment and shifted my weight to my right hip as he bled. “Are we alone here?”

He sighed. “No. But the other person here is a sixteen-year-old kid that’s apparentlyverysqueamish around blood.”

A sixteen-year-old kid? This was getting more and more strange by the second. “Why is there a kid here?”

He sighed, focused on stemming the bleeding again. “Because he decided to stow away in my Jeep on the way here. Then he proved very helpful in rescuing you.”

Rescuing me?

“Is he your kid?” I needed to put this whole puzzle together. I didn’t like all the unknowns. I didn’t like all the variables in this wildcard situation. I wanted to know everything he was willing to tell me, and I still wouldn’t trust him. But I had the feeling this guy was being honest with me.

His hand went still on the gauze, and his whole body snapped tautly. “Yeah. He is. Why?”

I glanced at his hand, but saw no ring. Not that I cared if he was married or anything. But I couldn’t help but be curious. Something was wrong here. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

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