Page 39 of Lethal Deceit

A low grumble jerks me out of my trip down memory lane. “You talk in your sleep,” Mick says.

I spin around, slipping my phone back in the pocket as I reply. “I do not.”

He runs a hand over his sleep-tousled hair and yawns. “Too early to argue… but if you want proof I can record you tonight.”

Well played. He’s calling my bluff at the same time as reminding me I have to endure another night spent here with him.

“You snore.”

He groans as he stretches his arms over his head. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

I hold my tongue as I consider whether I really did talk in my sleep.

I don’t share my bed withanyone.Ever.

It’s the only rule Mona laid down for me that I’ve never broken.

As he slides his boots back on, I ask the obvious question. “When is the nurse coming back? I want to shower.”

His eyes bounce from me to the open bathroom door. “I’ll find out when I get us some breakfast.”

I twist my hair into a knot and loop it so it stays in place. “I don’t suppose I get to choose?”

His eyes linger on me before a smile curls his lips. “You don’t want oatmeal?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Is that what you’re having?”

A slight vibration causes his eyes to shift to his pocket. Given it’s so early, it’s got to be the people he’s working for. “Guess we’ll find out what we’ve having together.”

At the use of “together,” I cringe and sneak back into the bathroom to see if my underwear is dry.

I release a breath as my fingers meet the material and I find it bone dry. Mick’s voice has gotten louder, so I leave the sewing kit where it is and listen closely.

“…not what we agreed on. She needs—" His voice gets higher, a sure sign he’s under stress.

From the choppy conversation, whoever it is he’s talking to is interrupting him and appears to be telling him plans have changed.

“…what about the nurse? Right, Alice… Why can’t she…” He lets out a growl. “But Luke… Good… Yeah, yeah. It’s not a problem. These things happen… I’ll keep you updated.”

When he exhales a long sigh, I enter the room. “No breakfast?”

His eyes meet mine, and he graces me with the tiniest of smiles. “No nurse. Her mother had a fall, and she wound up in the ER.”

“Oh.”

His mouth twists to one side. “So… go ahead and shower. Breakfast should be?—”

A thump at the door makes us both jump. Immediately his hand moves to his gun, and he waves me back, almost as if he’s protecting me. From what, I’m not sure.

“I thought you said we were safe here?”

His eyes narrow, his impatience growing as he replies. “Nothing wrong with taking precautions.”

Rather than argue with him, I back up and wait behind the bedroom door, my stomach rumbling acknowledgment that I need to eat again as a key slips into the lock and my pathway to freedom is opened.

In under a minute, Mick calls me back out, and while there are now two bags from a bakery on the countertop, along with two brown grocery sacks and a six-pack of soda, he doesn’t look pleased.

As I approach and see the mountain of food, I begin to understand why. There’s enough to feed us for a week. And it’s not all breakfast.

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