“Thanks, fighter.”
Regan gives me a wan smile. Turning around, I see Naomi curled in a ball on the floor. The only thing that matters is she’s alive. Holy hell. We’re all okay. Petrovich drives like a madman for the Tears of God favela, and it still seems like it takes too long. “I think I ripped the glue on my side,” I tell Regan.
She looks worriedly at me. “Let me see.”
“Nah, it’s nothing.” Although I do feel light-headed. It’s the result of being whipped around outside of the van. Maybe I knocked my head and can’t remember it. “I want you to know that you were fucking amazing back there.”
“Rrrright,” she snorts. “I ran. I screamed. I wouldn’t give the gun to Petrovich.”
“You were trying to take care of my sister in all that bullshit. Thank you,” I tell her. “Now come over here and kiss me like the hero I am.”
This puts a smile on her face, and she clambers onto my lap. I ignore the fierce burn on my side and the one in my shoulder, because who cares about that? I’ve got a warm armful of Regan Porter in my lap. Fighter. Survivor. Kickass human being. “I tell you I love you?”
“Not yet.”
“Love you, babe,” I croak out. Pulling her down, I part her lips with my own, and her tongue slides along mine, sending happy bolts of electricity down to my groin. She arches against me, and I revel in the feel of her slight breasts rubbing against my chest. The memories of our heated night together run in a loop behind my closed eyes. My hands drop down to cup her ass cheeks and pull her closer to me.
“Ow,” I grunt when her hand presses against my shoulder. She starts to move away, but I draw her back down. I can’t get enough of her. I want to lift her shirt and cover the tip of her breast with my tongue, suck her whole tit inside my mouth until I’m stuffed full of her. “Uhh,” I grunt again, the pain in my shoulder more acute. Shifting her to the side, I manage to dislodge her hand, and the relief is immediate. But I can’t stop kissing her. I don’t care that Petrovich is two feet away from me. My only thought is getting her closer to me. Her soft hands are cupping my face, and I’ve got sweet ass in my palms. I try to open my eyes to stare at her, to watch her lust-filled gaze as she grinds down on me, but there’s a fog that’s obscuring my vision. The pressure of her lips is decreasing, and she’s calling my name. I struggle to respond. My mouth is open, but there’s no sound coming out of it. Regan. I call to her. Regan. Regan. Regan. But there’s no response. No sound. Only a roaring in my ears and then . . . nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
REGAN
There’s no worse feeling in the world than kissing a man and realizing he’s going completely limp under you.
I don’t understand what’s happening to Daniel at first. We’re kissing and all over each other, the adrenaline of escaping Hudson’s compound racing through his body like it’s racing through mine. But then his lips part and fall slack, and I’m confused. I sit up and realize the spark in his eyes has gone glassy. “Daniel?”
When his eyes roll back, I scream. “Daniel?” I repeat his name over and over, tapping his cheek. “Daniel? Daniel!”
There’s no response. I slide off of him and gasp to see blood soaking the side of his shirt and a similar spot on his shoulder. “Oh my God, how fucking hurt is he?”
“Too loud, too loud,” Naomi cries behind us in the van. Her hands are pressed over her ears, and she huddles in a small ball on the floorboards. “Too loud!”
“Everyone fucking shut up,” Vasily growls at us. “I am driving!”
I want to comfort Naomi, but I’m scared for Daniel. His face is so pale. I rip at his shirt, now stained with blood, to see what the damage is. There’s a spot on his shoulder that’s leaking blood, but his side is worse. It looks like he’s been hit a second time, and there’s blood everywhere. I choke back a sob and begin tearing his shirt up, pressing the fabric against the wounds to stop the blood. I’m covered in it. I’d rip the nightgown I’m wearing off of my body, but it’s all I’ve got.
Then, I think, Fuck that, and tear it off anyhow. I don’t care if I’m naked. Dozens of men have seen and touched my body. All that matters is that Daniel lives.
“Too loud,” Naomi whimpers again.
Vasily mutters a curse and stares in the rearview mirror as another gunshot rings out. “We are followed.”