Page 23 of The Sinners Touch

“Are you okay?” Concern etched his face.

She nodded and put the plates on the island. How many more times was he going to ask her that tonight, and how many more times would she lie and say she was?

He held up a two liter of Mountain Dew. “They didn’t have any Coke, so I got the next sugariest thing. Are there any glasses?”

Kade watched her as she hunted through the cupboards. Her silence worried him. Shock was a distinct possiblity. He hoped getting some food in her would help. He opened the top box and loaded both their plates with pizza. Spicy Italian sausage and pepperoni. Her favorite.

She came back and sat down, glasses in tow. She picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite, her movements stiff and wooden. Her pale skin was blotchy and red from crying, and her eyes were wide and shell-shocked. The depth of pain in them hit him at his core. He’d put that pain there.

“I was thinking, Angel. I know this is a tough situation, but I thought maybe we could call a truce and be civil with each other? I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m just asking for us to try not to fight about everything. My job is to keep you safe, and that’s easier if we’re not screaming at each other every five minutes.”

“You’re not going to leave, no matter how many times I ask, are you?”

“No, I’m not. Your safety comes first. Be as mad at me as you want, but I won’t leave.”

“I guess I can try to be civil. I won’t promise, Kade, but I will try.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. He’d expected a fight from her but was glad she’d agreed. It might only be because she was tired, but he’d take it.

Maybe after a good night’s sleep, they could start over in the morning.

Maybe.

CHAPTER NINE

Angel’s head lay on the rim of the toilet, her stomach heaving. She thought she’d escaped the stomach bug going around at work, but no. She sat there, exhausted and miserable, puking for all she was worth. The smell wafted up and caused her stomach to roll again. She turned just enough so she could vomit. Dear God, whoever gave this to her was going to suffer.

“Angel, I got you some Gatorade!” Peter’s voice drifted toward her from the other side of the door. She groaned in response. Liquid of any kind wasn’t a good idea right now. Her stomach churned and echoed its agreement.

A quiet murmur of voices outside the door made her sit up, panicked. No, it couldn’t be. Kade couldn’t be here, couldn’t see her like this. They’d only been going out for three months. Hell, they could have been going out for three years and she wouldn’t want him to see her in the mess she currently was in.

The slow turn of the doorknob sent her spiraling into all sorts of embarrassment and shame. Why would Peter let him in here? Why?

She heard the flush of the toilet, then the sink turned on. He was on his knees beside her, pulling her hair back. His black eyes blazed with sympathy. He wiped her face gently.

“You okay, babe?”

Angel looked down into the now-clean toilet, mortified, very aware of the heat racing up her neck and bursting into a full blush on her cheeks. She wanted to crawl under a rock and die. Peter was a dead man as soon as she felt well enough to stand.

“Peter asked me to come sit with you.” Kade swiped her brow again with the cool cloth. “He had to go to work and didn’t want you alone. You should have called and told me you were sick.”

The censure in his tone made her blush harder. He was mad because she didn’t tell him she was puking her guts out? Um, no. That would never happen. Ever.

Bile rose in her throat, and she tried to sit up before it spewed out. She barely made it. Kade made some kind of clucking noise like her mom used to when she was sick while he held her hair back and rubbed soothing circles along her back.

“Easy, baby. Try to breathe.”

She gagged, and the dry heaves started. Kade just held her head while her insides wrung themselves out. When she was done, her head sank back down on the rim. Kade flushed again and rewet the washcloth. They did this dance for over an hour while her stomach tortured her.

“I’ll be right back.”

She was too exhausted to even lift her head when he got up and started moving around in her room. She had no energy to worry about what she had laying around in there. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her underwear before.

He came back with clean clothes, a pillow, and a blanket. He set those on the sink and turned the shower on. “Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”

She lay there while he undressed her then picked her up and got into the shower with her so he could bathe her and wash out her hair, which reeked of vomit. The whole time, he keptsaying soothing things to her in Russian, his movements gentle. Once her hair was deemed clean, he got out and toweled her off before wrapping her in a big bath towel.

“I’ll be right back. I need to change.”

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