Page 37 of Vengeance

"You are,” Vengeance pointed out.

"I said I'm not,” Chloe countered.

"You've been arguing with me for two days,” Vengeance said.

She looked at Doc when he barked out his laugh. "He started it,” she insisted.

Vengeance actually smiled. "I probably did."

Doc shook his head. "I'm too old for this shit." He disappeared into the kitchen. "I'll make coffee."

Chloe turned back toward Vengeance and noticed that his face had gone almost gray. "You're hurting."

"I've been better,” he admitted.

She ignored his answer. "Come on."

He frowned. "Where?"

"To sit down,” she said.

"I’m good with standing,” he said.

"No, you’re not,” she insisted. She gently took his arm and guided him toward the couch. To her surprise, he didn't resist. As soon as he sat down, his head fell back against the cushion and his eyes closed. She watched him for a long moment. He looked—younger without the hard expression he constantly wore and without the tension in his shoulders. He looked nothing like Dante. Whatever she'd expected the son of a monster to look like, it wasn't this.

His breathing changed and became uneven. She reached toward his forehead, and the instant her fingers touched his skin, he grabbed her wrist and his eyes snapped open—wild and searching. It took several long seconds before recognition settled in.

"Chloe." His grip immediately loosened. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No." He released her completely. "I—” He rubbed a hand over his face. "Sometimes I wake up swinging." She wasn't surprised—not after everything she'd learned about him.

"I can’t blame you for that,” she said. “Not after everything Doc just told me about your father.”

His eyes drifted toward the fireplace. "When I was younger—" He stopped.

"You don't have to tell me,” she said, noticing that he looked about ready to drop from exhaustion and pain.

A grateful smile crossed his face. "Thank you." She sat beside him, not too close, but just close enough to feel the warmth coming off his body.

Doc returned carrying three mugs. He handed one to Chloe and another to Vengeance. "Drink,” Doc ordered. Vengeance took a sip and immediately winced.

Doc sighed. "You're running a fever."

"I'm fine,” Vengeance insisted.

"You've said that seventeen times tonight,” Doc said.

"You counting?"

"I started after number five,” Doc admitted.

Chloe hid a smile behind her coffee mug. "That’s the first genuine smile I've seen from either of you." The warmth in the room lasted only a moment, and Doc's expression grew serious. He reached into his coat pocket.

"I ran out to the mailbox while I was brewing the coffee," he said. Neither of them thought much of it until he laid a plain white envelope on the coffee table. There was no stamp and no address. It had only one word written across the front.

DOC