Page 19 of The Villain

Remington.

Rob’s steps faltered, and her nostrils flared.“I came because there was a lead on Ivans and a fucking car bomb. Not because of Remington.”

I held her eyes for a long second. So stubborn and strong, but there was a kernel of hurt buried behind it all. A hurt that had nothing to do with what happened to her parents or how long Ivans and Wenner and Belmont had gone unpunished. A hurt I recognized:betrayal.I was the only one who understood it, which was why I couldn’t bring myself to ask her to explain it.

We reached my door moments later, and I punched in my code, unlocking access to a lengthy hall shrouded in dim light. We walked in silence to the end, where a short staircase led to another door.

The pressure in my chest built as I gave a soft knock so we wouldn’t scare her, and then I let us inside.

My breath released in a rush when I saw her lying there.Wounded. Vulnerable.And even though she was safe, I felt no relief, only the hollow hunger of anger left in my gut and the self-loathing for thanking God she couldn’t see me—couldn’t see the way I’d burn down the world to punish whoever had done this.

“Hello?” She made a soft noise and then pushed herself up to sit.In my bed.

“Athena?” I rasped, my voice getting farther and farther from its normal tenor each time I saw her—each time the strain on my body got worse. “It’s Dare.”

After Rorik had sedated her back at Covington, he’d called in a favor from a local nurse and friend of the Covington team, Gwen McIntyre, to come in and help clean Athena up. Gwen had gently and diligently sponged away much of the dirt and ash, and then exchanged her equally dirty and torn clothes for a loaned pair of red scrubs.

The glorified pair of pajamas were the only burst of color in the space. Everything else in my cabin—which wasn’t much—blended into varying shades of gray. Black bed frame. Gray sheets. White towels. A lone black chair in the corner that was dragged in from the kitchen.

“Hi.” She reached for her face and then let her hand instantly fall—like she’d forgotten about the bandage for an instant.

Her head dipped, and I felt the whole weight of it on my shoulders. A lock of hair slid over her shoulder, and tension rippled through me. The ash in her hair was the last remaining remnant from the explosion. Soot streaked the waves of sunshine, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe it away.

“I brought you a sandwich if you’re hungry,” I offered, approaching the bed cautiously but with enough noise for her to follow me.

“Thank you.” Her tongue swiped over her lips, and a bolt of heat went straight to my groin.

I reached her side and gently placed the paper plate on her lap. “Grilled cheese.”

Her lips parted, and I caught the slight dust of pink on her cheeks underneath the bandage. “Thank you.” If it was still a favorite of hers, she kept it to herself.Of course, because I was a stranger.

She slid her hands along the sheet, needing to feel her way to the sandwich, and a fresh dose of world-burning rage packed inside me.

“I also brought someone else with me—a friend,” I murmured, feeling my sister move closer.

“Hi, Athena. I’m Rob. I’m a private…investigator from San Francisco. I specialize in working with women who are hurt or…in trouble.”

Athena swallowed, her fingers retreating into a fist, before she nodded. “Hello.”

“Dare has brought me up to speed on what happened. How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?”

“I’m…okay.” A whisper of a small smile appeared. “I understand it could’ve been much worse, so I’m grateful.”

I tensed. I didn’t want her damn gratitude. Didn’t deserve it. But to explain that to her was impossible.

“I know you’ve been through a lot, but I was wondering if I could just ask you a few questions, if you’re feeling up to it,” Rob said, her voice taking on an almost melodic tone. I rarely heard her talk except in that unyielding, matter-of-fact, and relentless way—but that was because when we talked, it was always about work. About club business.About the men who’d killed her parents.

But this was a different Rob. A persona that felt like warm velvet, soft and soothing in the way it encouraged trust.

“Of course.”Athena’s hand furled and unfurled like she was checking to make sure the rest of her still worked. “I’m a little groggy from the medication, and I don’t…I’m sorry, I don’t remember much about that morning.”

“Don’t apologize, and don’t worry, I’m not going to ask about the explosion.”

I took a long, deep breath, slowly letting myself come around to this…questioning.

“Could I…could you take off the bandage over my eyes?” Athena murmured and then let out a sad laugh. “I know it doesn’t really make much of a difference, but I’d just—I’d like?—”

No.It was my knee-jerk response, but Rob answered quicker. “Of course, we can.”

---