Page 57 of Merciless King

Connor planted his hands on his hips. “I need her statement.” His eyes hardened. “What the fuck do you think I’m going to do? Hit on her?”

Van growled.

“I’m awake,” I said, sitting up. “I can give my statement.”

Van strode toward me. “Only if you’re up to it.”

“I’m okay.” I wasn’t sure that was the truth, but the sooner I did this, the sooner I could put it behind me.

Connor joined us and crouched down in front of me. “How you doing, honey?”

I shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

He dipped his chin, like he understood completely. “I just need you to run through what happened here and then I’ll leave you to get some sleep, okay?”

The door was open and I glanced out. The body was gone. Several police cars were outside, as well as a couple of others. I saw Hunter walk past with one of the officers, deep in conversation. I turned back to Connor and dipped my chin. “How did he find us?”

“Your assistant, Erin—”

“Oh God, he hurt her?”

“No, London, she’s okay. He called her, pretended to be a police officer, told her he needed to know where you were urgently, that it was life and death. She freaked and let slip you were at a cabin owned by Van’s family. It took him a couple of days, but he discovered Van’s connection to Raul, broke into his office at Stilettos. He found the address there.”

Thirty minutes later, we were done. When I glanced up, our bags were packed and Hunter was carrying them out to his car.

Van held his hand out to me. “Hunter’s taking us back to the city.”

Despite everything, I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay there with Van, but it was time. The danger was over.

Everything was over.

I shoved the quilt off and Van wrapped his coat around my shoulders, took my hand, and led me out to Hunter’s waiting car. I climbed in the back and watched while Van locked up the cabin. I refused to look at Zeke’s burnt-out car or the spot near it that looked darker than the area around it. I didn’t want to think about that either.

Van jogged down the steps and surprised me when he climbed in the back with me and dragged me across the seat so I was plastered to his side. I didn’t know why this surprised me so much. He’d done that kind of thing a lot over the last few weeks. Making me feel safe, wanted.

Again that heaviness surfaced and exhaustion took over. I allowed myself to relax against him, to take the comfort he was giving, the warmth of his body, his wonderful familiar scent, and closed my eyes.

* * *

I lay in Van’s bed and stared at the closed door. I was alone, but he hadn’t left the bed long ago. I could tell by the way the covers were thrown back. I had a feeling he’d had his arms around me all night, almost positive I could still feel the warmth of his skin against mine. Like he’d only just let me go.

I threw back the duvet. I was wearing only my shirt. I remembered coming in late and Van helping me tug off my jeans and get into bed. After quickly pulling on my pants, I left the room and headed down to the living room. Van was standing at the large window, staring out at the city below.

He turned when he heard me walk in. “You’re awake.”

I took him in, the sharp line of his jaw, something in his eyes—uncertainty—and I knew what came next. “You couldn’t sleep?” I said, instead of asking him what was wrong. I wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet.

A barely there smile curled up his lips. “It’s ten.”

I never slept in that late. “You should’ve woken me.” Especially since that more than likely had been our last night together.

He didn’t say anything for a long time. His intense stare moved over me and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Suddenly, I couldn’t bear drawing this out. One thing I’d learned early in life, and especially in the last two years, was that dragging things out, dwelling on the past, did nothing but prolong the pain.

And I’d already decided that wasn’t what I would take away from this. I refused.

“I’ll be going back to my apartment today,” I said. “I need to get my life back. I need to move forward.”

He shook his head to the side, one decisive movement. “I want you to stay here.” The muscle in his jaw jumped and he opened his mouth to add more. “For—”