Page 29 of Swerve (Boosted Hearts 1)

“Good?” he asked, in that husky Texas drawl of his, eyes intense, always watchful, alert.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He gave me a subtle chin lift then left again, shutting the door quietly behind him. That’s what I liked about Zeke. He was a man of action. No reason to waste words when you could just do what needed doing. He was so different now than he used to be. Before he went overseas, he used to be social, liked to laugh. I remembered him and Van a few nights before they were deployed. All the guys had been sitting around a bonfire behind Van’s house. They’d had a few beers and they were singing along with the stereo, laughing and joking. I don’t think I’d seen him smile since.

One thing hadn’t changed from those days, though. I’d always felt safe when one of the guys was around. Having him just out that door, I knew I could relax, that Zeke had me covered.

I’d felt fear in my life, but not like this. Right now, I felt helpless. Pathetic.

Afraid.

And I hated that more than anything.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ruby

I woke to the sound of the door opening and closing. I froze, just for a split second, a spike of fear snapping through me. But only a second, because I knew, I knew instantly who had just walked into my room. Goddammit, Zeke. He’d obviously let Neco in; there was no other way he could have gotten past. Jamming my eyes closed, I faked sleep. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to see the way he looked at me when he saw me like this for the first time.

I knew how bad I looked. I’d taken a shower on my own this morning. I was a mess. I looked as helpless and pathetic as I felt.

The sound of his boots moving toward the bed stopped. He was right beside me. My lips started to quiver.

“I know you’re awake, baby,” he rasped. “I’ve watched you sleep a thousand times, remember?”

I kept my eyes closed. My nose started to sting.

Something brushed over my trembling lips. I could smell his skin. He’d had a shower before he came.

“You gonna look at me?” His fingers lightly skimmed my cheek, his breathing getting rougher. He was checking out the bruises on my face. I shook my head.

He didn’t move from his spot by the bed, just kept on touching me in that gentle way. A way that was as possessive as it was comforting. My heart squeezed. I felt cherished, loved. It was a dangerous feeling, especially where Neco was concerned. I was a sister to him in every way but blood, that’s all he’d allow, and just like the guys at the agency were his brothers. His sister was hurt, and despite all our issues over the last few years, he cared about me. No, maybe not in the way I wanted him too, but he did. I tried to tell myself these things while he ran one of those big warm hands down my arm, taking my hand.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby girl,” he said in a voice I barely recognized.

Neco sounded wrecked, tormented, and it killed me. I started to shake my head—he had nothing to be sorry for. I’d put myself in danger. I’d ignored my instincts. I’d . . .

He let go of my hand and I mourned the loss of his touch instantly. But it was for the best. I was holding it together, barely, but if he continued to touch me like that, talk to me in that gentle, tormented voice—I would crumble.

His retreating steps echoed through the room, and I bit back the sob building steadily in my chest. But then he didn’t go to the door. He rounded the end of the bed and moved up behind me.

I was on my side, curled in a ball. A thudding sound that could only be his boots hitting the floor came next, then the bed jiggled, and he was up behind me. The length of his body pressed against the entire length of mine. I screwed my eyes shut harder, swallowing over and over, trying to keep it together.

He was doing what he used to when we were kids, after I’d run to his house in the middle of the night, and he’d lift me through the window, feet like ice. Warming mine with his, wrapping his strong arms around me, chin tucked against my shoulder.

A shiver wracked through me so hard there was no way he hadn’t felt it.

I was transported back in time, when Neco had been my everything, my family, the only person I truly trusted. Goddammit. Why was he doing this to me?

And then he destroyed me completely. He started to sing softly, voice deep and husky, about a girl he once knew. Singing Usher’s words to me. Oh God. A hot tear streaked down my cheek, and I crumbled. I fell apart. The tears kept coming. And I realized he was back there with me. In his room, us lying together sharing his headphones, comforting each other, and for that short time, we didn’t have to face the realities of our lives. For that short time, it was just him and me, and that’s all we’d needed.

He brushed my hair back from my forehead and kissed me just below my ear. The only place that wasn’t bruised.

“No one will ever hurt you again,” he rasped against my ear. “I promise you that.”

* * *

Neco