Page 135 of Keeping Kasey
Damon passes him the antiseptic, bandages, and the suture kit—because, of course, she’d cut deep enough to warrant stitches.
What’s worse, I can’t even have a damn drink to numb the pain.
Kasey hops off the counter and leans against it with her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll agree to that, but I have conditions.”
“Of course you do,” I mutter as James cleans the cut and readies the curved needle with sterilized thread.
“I’m not staying here.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” She looks around the kitchen like she’s surrounded by poisonous spiders and not pristine appliances.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight until I have the list.”
“And I’m not staying under the same roof as the people who spent four months hunting me down.”
I suck in a breath, teeth gritted so tight they might break, as James stitches me up.
He’s good… he had to be. Growing up, it was always Damon, Mason, and me coming home with injuries from the dangerous—and in Damon’s case, reckless—things we did. James was always the most careful, but that often meant he fixed us up.
Still, it hurts like hell.
“Where will you go?” Damon asks, knowing I can’t.
He’s been cozying up to Kasey since the second she got back. From what I can tell, she doesn’t appreciate it, but it pisses me off anyway. I’m only allowing it because he has a better shot of getting her guard down than I do.
She shrugs. “A hotel.”
“Fine,” I bite out, forcing myself to focus through the pain, “but we’re getting adjoining rooms.”
“The point is to getawayfrom you,” she deadpans. “That would put me even closer to you than I am here.”
I’d shrug if my arm didn’t feel like it was being held over a flame. “Then we can stay here.”
She cuts her eyes at me, but she must see that I won’t change my mind because she relents, “Fine, but no guards.”
“Not happening,” James interjects, pulling the thread taut and tying it. “The Consoli boss isn’t staying in a hotel unguarded. Out of the question.”
“Then he’s not staying in the hotel with me,” Kasey says. “I’m not going to be smothered by your soldiers. It’s no better than staying in this—”
“It’s fine,” I cut in. “We’ll stay in adjoining rooms with no soldiers. But you’re rigging the hotel security system to alert us of unwanted guests.”
Her glare is unmoving, but she nods once. “I still don’t work for free.”
This, I’d been expecting.
“The amount we originally agreed on,” I offer.
“Plus a bonus to cover everything you destroyed or had confiscated by the FBI.”
“I’ll put the money toward my car collection, and we’ll call it even.”
She fights back a satisfied grin, confirming the suspicion I’d had about that particular form of payback.
I once told Kasey my car collection was the only thing that was truly mine, not my family’s. Going after it was a personal attack—a way to hurt me, and me alone.
Damn if she didn’t succeed.
