Page 92 of The Wicked
“Well,Sport,how’s it hanging?”
I scoffed out a weak laugh. “Wow,Dad,how long did it take you to come up with that—that one? Real original.”
“It is?”
“Very.”
“I’m glad. The moment I saw you hanging, my brain immediately searched for a befitting response to your condition.”
“Really? I’m happy you’re finally learning to give a good sass.”
“Hm. It seems the negative influence you have on my brother is beginning to rub off on me.”
“Maybe we spend too much time together.”
“Maybe.”
And then silence fell, his eyes lingering on mine before falling to my cheek and then my lips. “Are you okay?” he asked, lifting his gaze to mine again.
“As okay as a person hanging from a ceiling for hours could be,” I said.
“Right.”
He came closer; his warm, firm body pressed against mine while one of his arms went around the backs of my thighs, a little below my ass, as he lifted me so that I wasn’t hanging from my own weight anymore. I suppressed my sigh of relief when he untied the knot at my wrists; the numbness in my hands slowly vanished with the sharp pin-like stabs I felt in my fingers as blood rushed back into them. He placed me back on my feet, which were bare.
I dropped my arms, my body pressed flush against his, with his arm still around me.
Our gazes locked again. “You can let me go now,” I said.
I lost my balance the moment he did, but he snaked his arm around me, pulling me back to his body. “Steady,” he said; somehow, his voice had grown soft, or maybe I was just reading too much into the gesture.
I pressed my hand against his chest, feeling his muscles beneathmy palm as I pushed slightly. “I can stand on my own; I’m not a damsel in distress.”
His gaze roamed my face. “I did just save you.”
“I was handling it well on my own.”
“You were? It’s odd, but I seem to remember untying you a few seconds ago.”
“I would have untied it myself, even if you hadn’t shown up.”
He was still holding me. “A little thank-you doesn’t hurt, Sport.”
“I have nothing to thank you for,Dad.” I pushed away from him, standing on my own two feet, ignoring the tiny wave of dizziness that hit me, ignoring how I felt less warm, being away from his body. “You left me.”
“Not exactly. I would have returned for you if you hadn’t gotten yourself kidnapped.”
I blinked at him. “So, you—you saw them taking me away.”
“I did.”
“And you didn’t do anything?”
“This is ludicrous and will never happen, but would you have stopped them from taking me away if you were the one in my place?”
I couldn’t answer because, yeah, he was right.
“There’s my answer. Come on, I have somewhere to be, and we need to look at your arm before returning to the compound. I honestly wonder how you’re standing after all they seem to have done to you,” he said, walking past me to Buzzcut on the ground.
