Page 94 of Russian Roulette
“That’s because you stole her right out from under my nose and fucked her too! Didn’t you?” Seven says. “You deserved to have the shit knocked out of you for that.”
“Stop it! Both of you, please just shut the fuck up!” I hold up my hands to quiet them. “Is this what we’re doing now?” I ask. “Every man for himself with no rules?”
“Beats me.” Vulcan shrugs. “You got a better idea?”
I let out a long sigh. “No, I don’t. When she first came here, I was planning to suggest a ground rule of hands off for her. The horse is already out of the barn on that one.”
“Come on, Kit,” Vulcan says, goading me further. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t jump in the sack with Jade if you get the chance. Go ahead. Try your best to deny it. I’ve noticed the way you watch her. Hell, you can barely take your eyes off her when she’s in the room.”
I don’t dignify his comment with an answer. She wouldn’t be staying at my house if I didn’t feel something for her. What exactly the emotion is remains to be determined.
“At some point, we have to work this out between us,” I say. “If by some miracle, we can convince her to stay in town.”
“And that’s a big, whopping ‘if’,” Seven says, slumping on the sofa beside me. “Pass me the bottle,” he tells Vulcan. “This will be a long fucking night.”
46
JADE
Iwake up to my leg pulsating in pain.Crap!I’d hoped to leave the house for a bit today. I’m counting on the guys keeping their word about my freedom. Reaching over, I click the switch on the bedside lamp. I vaguely remember Kit putting me to bed last night and kissing me softly. Was that real or a fantasy? I need to find out.
Sitting up, I swing my legs over the bed’s edge. Fortunately, there’s no blood seeping through the bandage. Kit did a better job patching me up than the hospital staff could. Thank goodness we fled before the police arrived to question us.
A light knock comes at my bedroom door before Kit sticks his head inside. “How are you feeling this morning? I noticed your light switch was on.”
“Like absolute crap,” I admit. “But I think my leg will improve soon.”
“Did you manage to sleep?” he asks.
“Surprisingly, yes. The pain medication helped. Thanks for that.”
He comes over and slides an arm around my waist, helping me to stand. “I’ll assist you to the bathroom,” he says, carefully lifting me.
“Hold on!” Seven calls out from the open door, rushing to my other side to offer support. “I’ll help too.”
“I didn’t realize you were still here,” I say to Seven. “Why did you spend the night?”
“Are you kidding me? I couldn’t leave last night without making sure you were going to be okay. Vulcan’s here, too. We took shifts staying awake during the night in case you needed us. He had the last shift, so he’s asleep on the sofa.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m not used to people making such a fuss over me. I’ll be fine, really. Stop worrying.”
“We’re responsible for the pain you’re in,” Seven says. “Trying to make you a little more comfortable is the least we can do.”
Seven places my arm over his shoulders, and together, they nearly carry me to the bathroom. Once I’m inside, I wave a hand to shoo them out. “I don’t need your help in here. Out you go. Give a girl some privacy.”
“Your suitcase with your clothes is in there,” Kit informs me. “Your computer case is in the bedroom. Need anything else?”
“No, I’m good.” I frown at my pale reflection in the mirror, then splash cold water on my face. No wonder they’re worried. I’m a walking corpse. I take my time cleaning up, doing my best to avoid getting my bandaged leg wet.
After freshening up, I’m feeling better and more like myself. I hate being injured. The pain puts me at a disadvantage.
I take a couple of tentative steps back into the bedroom without assistance.I can do this.The guys glance up in surprise when they hear me limping along the hallway toward the living room.
“Jade!” Kit calls out. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to yell for us when you need help.” He hurries to my side, attempting to scoop me up again in his muscular arms.
“Kit, stop,” I tell him gently, placing a hand on his arm. “You can’t keep carrying me around like a sack of potatoes. The more I move, the faster I’ll heal.”
“I’m not sure that’s true with a knife wound,” he says, concern etched on his face. “Rest might be better.”
