I have a million questions, but only one slips out when I see the dark red stain on the cuff of Jesse’s shirt as he shrugs out his jacket. “What happened to Matteo?”
He rolls up his sleeves, exposing his tattooed skin and bulging forearms. “He won’t be a problem anymore.”
My mouth feels dry. “Did you, did you… do something to him? He was from Dirt Downs, not the good side,” I explain, knowing he’ll understand I mean the gang side.
He smirks as he opens a tall cabinet on the other side of the room and pulls out a black box. He sets it next to me on the counter and begins fishing out supplies for stitches. “How are you with needles?”
“You tell me. Didn’t you watch while they were poking and prodding when I was in the hospital?”
He licks his bottom lip while washing his hands. “You’re still on that are you?”
“It’s hard to move past it.” I eye the scar on his neck. “What qualifies you to sew me up, anyway?”
“Years of getting my ass kicked,” he replies. “I needed you to choose this after you knew what I was capable of, Drew. The best things happen when you’ve embraced the dark.”
“All I’ve known in my lifetime is dark.”
Jesse bends his head down to open sterile packaging, quiet as he focuses on getting everything he needs.
“That doesn’t explain how I can trust you.”
He clears his throat and hits his knees in front of me. Peeling off the bandage Riley applied, he studies the gash on my knee. “Your friend who lives at the motel told Dirt Downs where you were. He showed up to your place first because of hisappointment.” At the last word, his deep blue eyes flick up to meet mine. No emotion, but I can feel his annoyance.
My mouth dries up as I envision the scenario. “Canceled appointment,” I amend. “She told him where I was?” If the answer is yes, I know her life is in danger. She’d never give up my location to a John. I make a move to hop down before he begins stitching. “I need to check on her. This isn’t good. He might have hurt her.”Or worse,I think.
Jesse’s grip tightens on my calves. “Callie is fine. I checked on her after.”
After. After what? I try to mentally calculate how long Jesse was gone. Does it take thirty minutes to kill and dispose of a body, or three hours? I don’t know. Being submerged in that life all throughout my childhood, I didn’t go down that road. I could have. I was with men who played the game, but I never involved myself. It may have been the only thing I protected myself from. I exhale noisily. “Did he, did he hurt her?”
Jesse pulls the top off a syringe needle as he shakes his head. I jump. “Easy. It’s Lidocaine to numb your skin before I stitch.”
“Well, you know why I’d be leery.”
He raises one brow, a gesture seeking permission. I nod, rolling my eyes. With the top still in his mouth, he injects around the cut. He uses gauze to mop up more blood as it runs down my leg. He spits the top off toward the door and it bounces across the bloody floor. “I need the leg up.” He scoots me back on the deep counter until my back hits the mirror and he positions himself in between my legs. “You’re safe with me. You need to trust in that. You might feel some pulling.” The needle is in his hand, and for a split second, his guard comes down. A flash of sympathy or something like it is exposed, and it’s enough. Just enough. For me to trust him. At least in this moment, if not for longer. His hand is warm on my thigh, like Riley’s was except it’s firmer. His dark brown hair is messier now that he’s done whatever it is he’s done to Matteo, but it’s all I see—his head bent low with his steady hand pulling the sutures into place.
“You’re pretty gentle with that,” I say, admiring how easy he makes it look.
A laugh escapes a moment before he tugs. “Might be the only time you can use that word when it comes to me.”
My response is a laugh, but caustic. “Okay, so you’re a bully.”
He shakes his head, continuing with a laser focus on his work. “Didn’t say that either.” His blue eyes flick up to meet mine. “I have a question for you.”
“One you’re asking instead of stealing. Seems another gentleness you’re granting.” In the next second, he’s guarded again. “Yes. Jesse, I mean, Mr. Astor, ask away.”
“Jesse when it’s you and I,” he says. “Mr. Astor only when it doesn’t matter.” What a funny way to word that. “You didn’t have any texts on your phone. None. Is there a reason you don’t message?”
“Ah, you go through my phone and didn’t find what you’re looking for?” Honestly, leave it to him to home in on my biggest insecurity. I could lie, but there’s no sense. If our working relationship goes any further, he’ll need to know. He stares at me as he tugs the knot on the end of the gash. I peek over and admire his handy work. I can’t imagine a doctor would have sewn me up better. “I can’t read. I’ve tried to learn but couldn’t, so it’s easier for me to use phone calls, and Callie helps me with everything else.” I pause, realizing what I’m giving him. “It’s a weakness. One I hope you can look past. I’m a hard worker and I’ve had many years adjusting to it.”
He nods, like this isn’t new information, and snips the string with a pair of small silver scissors. “All done. You won’t have a scar.”
“That’s it? You’re not going to say anything about me being a dumbass?” I huff, annoyed with him and myself for being the way I am.
He narrows his eyes. “You’re hardly a dumbass, Drew.” Jesse pulls my calves toward him in a rushed move. I slide toward him easily, his hands are high on my thighs, as he leans his forehead against mine. There it is again, the ache between my legs and my heart’s desperate cry for acceptance. His breath is warm and as it intermingles with my own, I feel lightheaded—my mind swimming with lust and danger. It’s the Lidocaine, or the way his fingers are digging into my thighs possessively, but I feel things I’ve never felt before. “Do you want to learn how to read?” The question comes as a rasp, and it feels like he’s asking something entirely different.Do you want me inside you?
His tight grip loosens on my legs, but only so he can slide his hands up my sides in a titillating path of passionate destruction. I close my eyes and let his hands whisper up my arms, across my collarbone and the end on my neck, one on each side, thumbs in the front. My eyelids fly open at the realization he’s paused there. He wets his bottom lip, blue eyes watching my mouth parted. “Yes,” I finally reply. My reply is also to the unasked question.
He’s going to kiss me. The air changes, and my heartbeat is hammering my core, begging for him to do his worst. Even though it doesn’t make any sense, I want Jesse in ways that make me squirm. The dark part of me calls out to the same inside of him. His wet lips brush mine when he finally replies, “Riley is a better teacher than I am.”