Page 12 of Dreadful

“Luck and opportunity.” Rafe says it the way you’d read off a grocery list.

Coco nods to herself. “I’ll make a few calls.” She turns and disappears through the side door without waiting for an answer.

Gage materializes in front of me. I don’t register him crossing the driveway. One moment he isn’t there, and then he is, his eyes moving over me the way they do when he’s already decided something. “Let’s get you patched up.”

“I’ll take care of her at home.” Lola’s clipped voice comes from my right.

I open my mouth and close it almost as fast. The word home lands somewhere in my chest and just sits there. We can’t go back to the apartment. Not tonight—maybe not for a while. I shake my head slightly, and I can feel Lola reading it, the way she always does, and I watch her face go tight with the understanding.

“No one is fucking leaving tonight.” Bishop’s voice cuts across the driveway like something thrown. “Everyone. Garage. Now.”

Everyone files through the service door. I’m almost past him when I catch it—the open collar, the shirt pulling wrong across his shoulders, a tension in his jaw that hasn’t fully released. Bishop is always put together in a way that feels almost aggressive.

Seeing him undone like this unexpectedly drags me back.

I drag my nails across his scalp, tangling my fingers in his hair and tugging. He groans into my mouth, this low, needy sound of pleasure. I can taste his desire on my tongue, and it’s the most delicious thing I’ve had in years.

His hands bracket my ribs, hauling me impossibly closer, eliminating the barest inch of space between our bodies.

His cock⁠—

It takes effort to dissipate the memory and yank my gaze away. I find a point on the far wall and hold it.

The door clicks shut behind Cruz, sealing us in. Bishop turns, and the sound that rips out of him isn’t a word but a raw crack of noise that hits the garage walls and bounces back. “What the fuck happened?”

I jump at the sound, my nerves beyond fried at this point.

Rafe’s glare is a physical thing, hot enough to scorch. “Like I said. Devil’s Hand and Widowmakers.” His palm presses flat against the small of my back, guiding me toward the worn couch along the back wall.

I perch on the edge, acutely aware that I’m going to get blood, dirt, and the slick drag of guilt all over the upholstery.

Bishop rakes his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

I flinch at the explosive curse before I can conceal it. Embarrassment warms my cheeks at my reaction, and I blame it on my exhausted nervous system. I’m going to need some time and a hot shower to recover.

Cruz watches him. “Take a lap around the pool.”

“Fuck you.” Bishop’s jaw works. He tips his head back, stares at the ceiling, and exhales through his nose—slow, deliberate, the way someone breathes when they’re trying to keep the lid on something. It doesn’t fully work. His hands drop to his sides and then come back up, lacing behind his neck.

“That’s the spirit.” Sarcasm drips from Cruz’s lips.

Bishop turns around, his gaze finding Rafe. “Every second we stand here—” He exhales sharply. “They know where we live, Rafe. They could be on their way here right fucking now, and instead of devising a plan, we’re playing nurse.” Bishop starts pacing again.

“Hey.” Gage is already crouched in front of me, his palm settling onto my thigh with a steadiness that makes something in my chest go quiet. His eyes come up to mine. “Your arm.”

The couch dips as Lola sits down beside me.

Rafe’s voice comes from just behind Gage, quiet and absolute. “So take your fucking lap around the pool.” A three-tiered first aid kit appears on the cushion to my right. He straightens back up, arms folding across his chest, and doesn’t move again, just watches Gage pull the zipper and start working through the contents with the particular focus of someone who already knows what he’s looking for.

“Don’t worry, Bell, we’ve got everything in here,” Gage says.

“I’m fine, really,” I murmur automatically. Maybe if I keep repeating it, I’ll trick myself into believing it.

FIVE

BELLAMY

“Bullet caught her right bicep,” Rafe says, with a slight tilt of his chin in my direction.