Page 62 of Pretty Lethal
I had called Kai on our way to the car earlier. So as soon as I pull up outside the house, he’s throwing open the front door and storming down the steps, looking ready to commit murder. Just wait until he hears what happened. He’ll truly be out for blood then—right alongside me and Wilder.
Emilia’s already been through enough. She doesn’t deserve to be put through any more of this shit, and it pisses me off that these entitled bastards think they can manipulate everyone around them to get their way.
Kai throws open the back door before I’ve got the car in park, his eyes roaming over Emilia’s sleeping form. “Why the hell is she covered in dirt and blood?” he whisper-barks, bundling her into his arms before turning his attention to Wilder. “And why do you look like you murdered someone?”
When he looks my way, I tilt my head toward the house, and the three of us head inside.
As soon as we’re under the bright hall lights, I can see just how disheveled Emilia is. Her pajamas are filthy, covered in muck and leaves. The sleeves are ripped and torn, showcasing visible scratches along her arms. Her feet are even more ripped up than I realized, with bits of grit and stone still embedded in them, and her face is red and puffy.
She hasn’t woken up once since we got in the car. Hasn’t even stirred. She must be completely drained, and seeing her so small and delicate looking, injured and hurt, has that same uncontainable anger and unending helplessness welling up in me that I felt when I was strapped to the chair in the kitchen, watching Mel launch herself at the woman who owns every inch of my heart.
“She needs to get cleaned up,” Wilder says in a weary voice, his eyes assessing her the same way mine are. He holds his arms out for Kai to give her to him, and after a moment’s hesitation, where Kai looks reluctant to be separated from her, he hands Emilia over.
“Do you need any help?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “No. I… I need to be the one to do it.”
Lips pinched flat, I nod in understanding. Seeing Emilia so fragile has totally wrecked him. It’s broken something vital inside him, and it has me a little concerned about how he’s going to cope with all of this.
“We’ll get a makeshift bed set up in the cinema room,” I tell him before he walks off.
“Is he okay?” Kai asks once we’ve heard the bathroom door shut upstairs.
“I don’t think so.” I sigh wearily, heading toward the kitchen to grab two tumblers and the bottle of scotch. Noticing that it’s low, I make a mental note to buy more—fuck knows we’re going to need it if shit like this is what we’ll have to deal with until we can find a way to untangle ourselves from these fucking people.
“What happened tonight?” Kai demands, having followed me into the kitchen.
Pushing one of the glasses toward him, I lean against the countertop, nursing my own drink as I catch him up on tonight’s events.
I watch his eyes widen in horror when I tell him what they did to our woman, before that murderous look again clouds his expression. I can’t say it’s a look I’ve ever seen on him before. I’ve seen Kai angry when a case hasn’t gone according to plan, caught his pissed-off glowers when Wilder says something dickish, and witnessed his own self-hatred at the darkest moments of his grief. However, the vengeful, bloodthirsty expression he’s sporting now is new and reminds me that he’s a trained Marine. He’s seen bloodshed and violence. I know he’s killed people and had to make tough decisions in god-awful situations. He’s capable of a hell of a lot more than he leads people to believe—it just took the right woman being harmed for him to unleash.
“We are not fucking going through this again!” he snaps when I finish. “Wejustoffloaded Mel. I will notallowher to be dragged through more shit.”
“I agree with you. And I know Wilder will too.”
“We’re getting Wilder away from them. I don’t care what it takes or what we have to do, but he’s getting out, and I’m going to ensure none of them come after any of us again.”
Downing my drink in one, I nod in agreement as the burn slides down my esophagus. I am fully on board with his plan. The question is, how do we achieve any of it?
* * *
Noneof our beds are large enough to accommodate all four of us, so Kai and I grab pillows and duvets and pull the cushions off the sofa to create one large bed in the middle of the cinema room.
By the time we’re finished, Wilder reappears with Emilia bundled in his arms, dressed in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt of his. Spotting the writing written across it, I roll my eyes.#darkknighttotherescue.Last time I saw that t-shirt, he was wearing it as we went to save Hadley. Of course, by the end of that night, it was covered in sweat and blood and fit for the trash, but it seems he ordered more than just newpussy brothert-shirts. I just hope he hasn’t gotten me any more nonsensical t-shirts, too. I’ll change the WIFI password on him if he has!
Emilia stirs, garnering my attention and I glance down at her, noticing she’s awake now as she looks around the room. She still looks exhausted, her face pale and her eyes sunken, even though she appears more alert now that Wilder has bandaged her feet and put her in fresh pajamas.
“Hey, Little Sparrow, how are you doing?” I ask in a soft voice, taking her from Wilder and nestling her into the center of the makeshift bed.
“Tired, but I’m alright,” she responds, sounding anything but. “I don’t know if I can get back to sleep, though. Can we watch something?”
“Of course.”
Wilder settles in on her other side, sandwiching her between us, and as I scroll through the movie choices, Kai appears with a tray of hot chocolates for all of us.
“Here you go, baby girl,” he says, offering her first pick. It’s obvious which mug is hers though—the one overflowing with marshmallows and topped with the leaning tower of whipped cream.
“Thank you,” she mutters, mustering a brief smile for him as she accepts the proffered drink before snuggling deeper into the blankets.
