Page 16 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
But he has a point. If the killer had been in front of me, I would’ve never noticed. I need to be more vigilant.
I note TJ’s dressed in a white round-neck shirt, a blazer and slacks. Too warm for the weather, but then I realize he might be carrying a gun. It’s oddly comforting, even though I pray he’ll never have to use it.
“What did the doctor say? You got checked out too, right?” I ask Tony.
“All good. Some minor damage, but it’ll heal.”
Relief ripples through me. “How’s Bobbi?” I ask when I don’t see her. She was in the Escalade when the SUV rammed into it, and it looked awful. Although she came out of the car on her own and even managed to cuss, she might have injuries I didn’t notice.
“Her doctor said she’s okay, but she might get sore later,” Tony says. “Just like the rest of us. You always feel worse the next day.”
It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so angry and left…or if I’d had the foresight to bring my stuff in the morning…
Technically, I couldn’t have predicted what happened tonight. I couldn’t have known. But the guilt wriggles like a worm. If I hadn’t been there, the killer wouldn’t have attacked. Nobody would’ve been hurt.
Tony picks my right hand up carefully. As he looks at the Band-Aid, the corners of his mouth turn downward. “Did you need stitches?”
“No. Just some antiseptic. It’s a shallow cut.” Thank God. Some people never get to play the piano again after they injure their hands. “Let’s go get Bobbi, then go home.”
“Actually, she went home to rest. I gave her a day off. She definitely earned it,” Tony says.
My gaze slides to TJ. So that’s why he’s here.
“You sure she isn’t hurt badly?” I ask, needing to reconfirm and wishing I’d had a chance to see her before she left.
“Nope. Nothing’s broken or bleeding. Now let’s get you home.” Tony gently wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You’ll feel better after some sleep.”
I nod even though I’m not sure I can sleep tonight.
TJ drives us home. I lick my lips, then say, “I’m sorry about Bobbi, TJ.”
He grunts. “She knows the risks.”
Guilt and fear twist my belly into tight knots. The risks. She told me she took a bullet for one of her clients. I didn’t ever think she’d ever get hurt guarding me.
I’ve never taken the danger seriously enough. If I’d stayed Iris Smith… would that have made a difference?
TJ parks the Cullinan in the garage, and all three of us go to the penthouse together. It’s going to be practically impossible for the killer to sneak in now. The building has top-notch security. You can’t get up to our floor without sticking a key into the elevator slot or having the concierge clear you. There are cameras everywhere, and it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to get caught on film. Otherwise he wouldn’t have chosen to attack me at night. He would’ve come at me in broad daylight, even pretended to have an appointment at the foundation and killed me.
But my nerves are still jittery. I keep thinking about the sounds of the crash. It was nothing like in the movies. It was a thousand times worse.
TJ steps into the place first, checking everything. I see my suitcase in the foyer.
“Go on upstairs,” TJ says. “I’ll lock everything up.”
Tony carries the bag in one hand, the other arm around my waist. We reach the master bedroom. Everything could have ended tonight. I’ve never felt so helpless before. Not even when Sam pushed me into the pool. At least back then, I was the only target. This time, Tony and Bobbi were in the crossfire.
I put a hand on Tony’s shoulder to steady myself.
Naked vulnerability fleets through his eyes as he stops and looks down at me.
“Are you thinking about using a different room?” he asks quietly.
It only takes me a moment to process, but it’s enough for him to think my answer must be yes. The pain on his face is stark. “I’d like for you to be in our room, share the same bed, even if we aren’t having sex. At least for tonight.”
It kills me that he’s asking, but maybe he’s not totally off track doing so. I thought about a guest room before the attempt on our lives. But now? Nothing could tear me away from him. Holding his hand, I step into our bedroom.
The place where I used to hang my clothes is empty, as is the bathroom counter space for my toiletries. It’s as though the whole space has been waiting for my return.
