Page 111 of Ricochet

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

There weren’t many times in Colin’s life when he had lain awake instead of racking up hours sleeping. None of those times had been when he was already in bed. Watching Adelia work through her mental hang-up and then climax had been powerful. He didn’t get the why, but he had spent most of her time sleeping theorizing.

Her biological father had been a pimp. She had been soldfor sex.

Mayhem had purchased her—even if they did so to save her—and Colin wasn’t sure what kind of place that compound would be to raise a teenage girl.

Even if she hit the universe’s lotto and something tragic hadn’t happened to her, she likely hadn’t had great positive examples of women in her life—at the very least, not when she was younger. The jury was still out on her time with Mayhem,as far as he was concerned.

It was as if she’d been schooled in the idea that she couldn’t get off without him. Did that make sense? Colin pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have the first clue about psychology, despite years of working with trafficking victims. Adelia wasn’t one of their victims. Yet she was, and he couldn’t forget where she came from or what she knew.

And maybe thatwas part of why they were in this mess. Her fear of climaxing was almost like her need to run away from him when he wanted to help. She had to go dark, work alone, survive alone.

She flinched, batting the air unexpectedly, then settled down.

What was driving her to run from him? What couldn’t she trust him with?

Again, she twitched, waving away a dream, but this time, her pink lips mumbledfor whatever haunted her to go away.

“It’s a dream,” Colin soothed. “You’re okay.”

She quieted, snuggling against him again, and the minutes rolled by. His side hurt, and he needed to go check the front door for the pill delivery they were expecting, but he didn’t want to move away from her.

Adelia mumbled again, but this time, her dreams seemed to hold less of a scary hold over her, and theoccasional grin appeared as she stretched awake.

“Are you asleep?”

“Mm-hmm,” Adelia purred. “Kinda, sorta.”

Cute.Colin leaned into his pillow. “Kinda, sorta, you are adorable.” This was what he needed to recover: a safe house and Adelia. Everything else could wait.

“You are too.” Her sleepy eyes blinked open.

“I don’t know about that.” He ignored the throbbing in his side as he leaned overto kiss the top of her head. “But Javier once told me not to disagree with a Brazilian woman. Ever.”

Adelia’s laughter was stilted, and her warm eyes dulled.

“You okay?” He leaned back, again ignoring the discomfort that would be there for a few days. “You had a nightmare, I think.”

Lines etched across her forehead. “Ugh. Yeah.”

“Do you remember it?”

She nodded, rubbing her temples. “Yeah,it’s—I don’t know. Never mind.”

The pain of her dream clearly still weighed heavy, and he hated that she boxed him out.One step forward, two steps back.It was like whenever he thought he’d figured something out, she’d closed another passage.

Then again, maybe he was high as a kite or septic and hallucinating. His side hurt like a bitch. Maybe he was just getting older. “What was your dreamabout?”

“I can’t remember.” She scowled at the dream that seemed to flash before her eyes.

“Of course not.”

She twisted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m curious about your nightmare. You don’t remember. No worries.”

“Right. I don’t.”

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