Chapter 29

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

GRACE

I hadn’t meant to sleep, but I’d apparently passed out. When I woke, someone had put a blanket over me and there was a glass of water on the nightstand. There was also a bottle of?—

Rubbing a hand against my face, I grimaced at the residual bruising still there. I kept forgetting that one guy hit me in the face. I should probably check the mirror and make sure it was healing.

Sitting up, I squinted at the bottle. It wasn’t just hard to read because I was tired, I needed to turn on the light. Damn, I was foggy. It was like I couldn’t quite catch my brain up to being awake. With care, I flicked on the light and then eyed the bottle again.

Pain relievers.

There was a second bottle on the nightstand, another bottle of pain relievers. A sticky note in front of them had neat handwriting.

Take two from the blue bottle and one from the yellow. It will help with the pain and the inflammation. We also need to check your back when you get up.

No signature on the note. I read the bottles. They looked like what they said they were, so I followed the instructions, then washed them down. All at once, I felt scummy.

I needed a shower.

I needed clean clothes.

I needed coffee.

Rising, I stretched slowly and tried to ignore the protests in every muscle. I’d been still for too long. The window I’d levered open had been closed and the curtains drawn. No wonder it was so dark.

With one hand, I pulled back the curtain to look outside. It was a grayish light. Dawn, I guessed. Letting it fall back into place, I went to the closet to investigate the clothes. I found a shirt and leggings, they were close enough to my size.

There were no underthings, but I found some in a drawer in the dresser. All sealed in packages—so new and not used. Nothing fancy, just sports bras and boy shorts in super soft material, or so the details claimed.

Showering took a little longer than I wanted to admit. The supplies were all basic, but I made do with the shampoo and conditioner. The hardest part was raising my arms. I did it gradually, using the hot water to warm my muscles up.

Sadly, I was fucking exhausted by the end of the shower, but I was clean and I felt better. The weariness sweeping through me was harder to ignore than I liked. Washing my hair hadn’t been comfortable, but I’d gotten it done.

After toweling off, I studied myself in the mirror. Bruises littered my skin like I’d rolled in some dusty ink somewhere. There was a new one on my cheek. It was a bit swollen, but I hadn’t even noticed that one with the rest.

I was one long ache. This was not something a hot shower could just wash away. The smudges below my eyes were dark and my eyes puffy. It gave me a hollow look that photographers hated.

If I had the right cosmetics, I could probably cover it all up. Right now, as much as my looks were my livelihood, I really couldn’t give a damn about them. The bruises would heal, and it wasn’t like I was going to be doing a photo shoot anytime soon.

I hung up one towel, and then eased the one off my hair with care. I found a wide-toothed comb and went to work easing it through the strands. I had some knots in places. Nothing to be done for those but tease them out. The heavy conditioner helped.

Combing it in the shower would have been better but I only had so much energy. When I was done, I planted my hands on the counter and leaned there. I could probably go collapse all over again.

Several long, deep breaths brought the harsh hammer of my heart back to something normal and let me straighten up. I was exhausted , but I didn’t have time for it. I sat on the cold toilet lid to pull on the panties and the leggings. The bra was a tad harder but I made it work, one arm at a time.

The t-shirt wrapped like a soft hug around me. The clothes were a little on the big side. But they weren’t falling down. I’d take it. Done, I rose and reached for the door to the bathroom.

Voodoo stood in the middle of the bedroom, arms folded and chin tucked. He cut a look up at me as I opened the door. “Good morning, Firecracker.”

“Morning.” I didn’t really think “good” applied. “Can I help you?”

“I want to look at your back, if you don’t mind.”

I sighed. “I wish I’d known that before I put on the shirt.”

“It was on the note,” he said as a faint smile creased his lips. “Don’t worry, I can help.”

He’d already had an eyeful, as well as a handful, of my breasts so it wasn’t just about getting me naked. I pushed the bathroom door back so it was wider before I withdrew back into the bathroom. I also flicked the lights back on.

Facing the mirror, I gave him my back. “How do you want me?”

“This counter would be nice,” he murmured, reaching past me to tap the marble top. “It’s the right height.

Heat scorched through my system like a match set against so much dry kindling. I cut my gaze up to meet his in the mirror. The darkness of his eyes could be unsettling. They looked black, but the brown was just so deep you couldn’t see where the pupils ended. The colors just seemed to flow into the other.

“Are your eyes why they call you Voodoo?” The question probably sounded like it came out of nowhere. He raised his brows as he hooked his fingers under the edge of my t-shirt.

“Let me do the work,” he said in a low voice that added another flash fire of heat to my system. He’d wanted to do all the work before and that had been… I shivered. His lips curved a little higher. No way he missed my reaction.

He lifted the shirt easily, gliding it up until he could tuck it over my shoulders. I braced my hands on the counter. My palms still had light scrapes on them and coolness felt good against the raw skin.

“Bra next.”

“Yippee,” I murmured, but he was already lifting the back away from my skin and then up until it was also tucked over the shirt. One of my breasts popped free, but the other was cold. The flush of chilly air had my nipples tightening.

It had nothing to do with the extremely tall, sexy man who had his hands on me. That was my story and I was sticking with it.

“Not seeing a lot of bleeding through on the gauze,” Voodoo said, his tone still warm if settling into something a little more professional. “You good with me changing the bandage?”

“If I said no, would you stop?” I lifted my gaze to meet his in the mirror again.

“Yes.” The lack of hesitation and the single syllable answer with no qualifiers eased some of my objections.

My stomach made a faint gurgling noise as it curled over itself. I was actually hungry, but I really wanted coffee.

“Then I’m fine with you checking it. I’d rather know it was healing.” I licked my lips. “But can we do it quickly?”

“We can. Let me grab the kit.” He retreated from the bathroom, but returned swiftly with the box that reminded me of one that stored someone’s fishing tackle. It had a lot of trays and options inside. I studied the contents as he raised the trays and then pulled out what he needed.

Fresh gauze. A clear patch to put over the gauze. Skin glue. What looked like antiseptic or antibiotic ointment. Maybe both. Once he had it all laid out, he used the antiseptic—ah it was alcohol—to loosen the adhesive and peel the patch there off.

It didn’t even sting.

The gauze came next. There was dried blood on it, but not a lot. He snapped on gloves before he explored the area around the wound. It was definitely sore and uncomfortable. I hissed twice when he applied some pressure.

“Not a lot of heat. The skin looks flushed, but it’s not angry. The swelling has gone down and so far, it looks like the skin glue is holding. Your escapade out the window doesn’t seem to have done any damage. Just gonna dab this up, and seal it back closed. We’ll let it heal from here.”

That was all good news. His movements were steady, quick, and efficient. The tenderness around the wound itself had me wincing, but he didn’t touch it more than necessary. Once he had the tape in place, he pulled my bra back down slowly. His attention flicked back to me in the mirror.

“Can you get your breast or would you like me to take care of that too?” The deadpanned delivery robbed it of any sarcasm, but not the heat flashing in his eyes.

“You’d do it, too, wouldn’t you?” Playing with fire?

“Yes,” he said. “But only with your permission.”

“I have a feeling if you touch my breast, we won’t be leaving this bathroom any time soon.” How did I feel about that? Regretful? Maybe a little. At the same time…

“You need to eat and I do have some self-control.” He almost sounded chiding, but when I raised my hand and nudged my breast back under the fabric of the bra, he tracked the movement with an expression that had my pussy clenching around the emptiness. It was a reminder of how much he’d filled me and how much I’d like to do that again.

Fuck. I really would like a repeat of the experience. Maybe with a little more active participation my part.

“Maybe next time,” I said, trying to make it sound far more noncommittal than I was.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, his faint smile still present. “Hell, I’ll hold you anyway you want.”

Damn, if those words didn’t trigger a wild flutter in my belly. The man was far too damn tempting by half. He settled my shirt back into place and stayed there for a beat longer before he moved to close the kit and clean up the trash.

“Hungry?” The casual question was nowhere near as relaxed or informal as he tried to sound.

“Starving,” I admitted. “I’d also kill for coffee.”

“Well, if something needs to die for it,” he said in a droll tone. “I’ll take care of it.”

Arms folded, I followed him out of the bathroom and to the door. “Sucking up?”

He snorted. “Trust me, Firecracker, when I’m sucking on you for anything, you’ll know all about it.” The deliberate wink just added to the wildfire swirling in my system.

“Flirt.”

The low chuckle he released was every bit as decadent as the sensual promise in his words. “You like it.”

As much as I should dispute that charge, I couldn’t. I did like it. These guys were frustrating as hell and this situation was kind of a nightmare. At the same time? I was attracted to Voodoo in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

A very long time.

“You didn’t answer my earlier question,” I said as he began to descend the steps ahead of me.

“Funny,” he commented. “You’re right. I didn’t.”

Probably didn’t intend to answer it. To my surprise, we were not the only ones awake. Or maybe it shouldn’t have startled me so much. The other three were in the kitchen.

The scents of bacon, toast, and coffee competed to tempt me to head right over and just start eating at the stove. I had some manners though.

“Good morning, Gracie,” Lunchbox said as Goblin lifted his head to look at me. “Have a seat. I’ll grab your coffee for you. Five minutes until food. How do you like your eggs?”

“Over medium,” I said slowly. “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he responded easily enough even as he crossed over to set the coffee in front of me. “Once we’ve eaten, we’ll brief you on what’s happening next.”

I blinked at him slowly. Brief me?

Curiosity speared through me and I kind of wanted the answers now. Voodoo grabbed his own coffee then pulled out the chair next to me. Alphabet saluted me sleepily with his coffee and Bones just ignored all of us, his attention focused on the tablet in his hand.

“Okay,” I said, after debating and discarding a half-dozen other responses.

That earned me looks from three of the four Musketeers in the room. The fourth one didn’t look up from his reading at all.

Voodoo gave me a hard stare and I lifted my coffee cup. “What? He said you would brief me. I’m willing to wait a few minutes for that.”

It was about the only concession I was willing to make right now.

Hopefully, they had better answers than the ones they offered me the day before.