Page 66 of The Witch's Heart
“I’m good,” I tell him. “What about you?”
He snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “In this moment?” He drops a kiss on my nose. “Fantastic.” Another kiss on my cheek. “Amazing.” And one more on my chin. “Never better.”
I smile and lift my mouth to meet his, rocking against him.
His hand dips to cup my ass.
Something clicks and the door swings open.
I sit up, breathless and startled. Beside me, Dean does the same and lets loose a growl that’s more animal than human. On my other side, Declan stirs.
“Go away,” he grumbles sleepily.
Sir frowns at the three of us in bed together, and I realize belatedly I’m naked. Grabbing the sheet, I yank it to my throat.
“What do you want?” I demand.
“You,” Sir says, disgust in his gaze before he turns away. “You have five minutes to get dressed.”
Then he shuts the door with a decisive click.
I blow out a breath, off balance at the sudden intrusion. But Dean grabs my face in his hands and presses a kiss to my lips. “It’s all right,” he says.
I’m not sure what “it” refers to or if he’s simply offering sweeping reassurances. But I don’t argue.
Declan props himself on his elbows, eyeing me with a heat that would have distracted me if not for Sir waiting outside.
“Morning, witch-girl.” He leans up and kisses me hard on the mouth.
“Morning.” I smile at him and then hurry to get dressed, aware of the ticking clock. As much as I don’t want to leave this room, I also don’t want to know if Sir would force me upstairs naked if I’m not ready in time.
While I dress, the boys talk quietly. I hear Declan threatening to rip Sir’s throat out if he so much as touches me. And Dean speculating about what Cutter wants with me now. The term “bloody wanker” is tossed about liberally in regards to both of them. But none of us can begin to predict what will happen after last night’s party. After Maria.
I swallow hard and finger-comb my messy hair. Being with Dean and Declan gave my heart and mind a reprieve from the torment of last night, but now the memories rush in again, harsh and unyielding. There will be consequences to that party.
Fear and nerves grip me, and I hurry back to bed and into Dean’s already-open arms for one more hug. He kisses the top of my head.
“It’s all right,” he says again soothingly. “We’ll be right here when you get back, love.”
I pull away and Declan grabs me, leaping out of bed to pull me into a proper embrace. He’s naked with his bare ass aimed at the door when Sir opens it again.
“Time’s up,” Sir says flatly.
Declan just grins down at me, winks, and steps back, still showing Sir his backside as I walk out.
Sir is quiet as we walk, and I decide to keep it that way. No question is worth drawing any extra attention from this man. Instead, my mind wanders to Dr. Livingstone and I sigh, my heart aching as I remember how he looked at me when he left last night. Desperate. Ashamed. Like he hated himself.
I need to talk to him.
Maybe today we can go outside again and speak privately.
There has to be a way out of here, and if anyone knows it, it’s him.
But Sir doesn’t take me to the doctor’s office. Instead, he leads me down a flight of stairs and for a panicked moment, I think we’re headed back to the dungeon I occupied until not so long ago.
But when we emerge from the stairwell, I see that we’re in another hallway much like the one we left behind. Whitewashed walls and matching floors that gleam under harsh lights.
I rub my arms to chase away the chill that follows me and catch sight of two spirits trailing behind me. They wear matching expressions of worry and fear, but they don’t speak. A man in scrubs passes us, with Holly trailing in his wake. She barely looks up as she shuffles past, and I note her bloodshot eyes and hunched shoulders. She looks exhausted, but she’s gone before I can think of anything to say.
