“Um, no, everyone is fine; we were all out of range when it went off.” Why I’d just lied to him, I had no idea. Other than his failing to sound super-concerned, which could have just been my imagination, I had no reason not to trust him.
While I was speaking, River had come to stand in front of me, and when he heard my lie, he raised an eyebrow in question, to which I just gave a small shrug.
“I see,” Jonathan murmured. “That’s very lucky. I understand you’re at the Omega safe house with Alpha team right now. What are your plans from here?”
“Ummm,” I looked to River for guidance, but of course he hadn’t heard the question and just gave me a confused frown. “I think we will stay here for a bit and try to work out who was responsible for that car bomb.”
“Okay, sounds like a good idea, kiddo. I have to deal with all this paperwork tomorrow, so I will come up there as soon as I can get finished.” There was something seriously strange about his tone as he spoke, but he gave me no further opportunity to question it. “Can you pass the phone to River please, hon? I want to get his report directly.”
“Uh, sure.” I handed the phone to River with a small shake of my head, and he nodded, taking it from me.
Not bothering to hang around and listen to their conversation, I headed through to where the guys were all gathered in the living room. When I got there, I sighed heavily, rubbing my tired eyes.
“I understand there is a whole thing going on here between you two,” I waved my hand between Cole and Vali. “But can it wait? I’m so exhausted it’s not even funny. I need sleep, and then we need to get ourselves to Alaska somehow. Can everyone please stay alive for like… eight hours?” Running my hand through my wild, tangled hair, I grimaced. There were little twigs and bits of stuff all through it, and I probably looked a sight.
“You do kind of look pale,” Caleb noted, stepping forward to lay a hand against my forehead. “Do you still feel sick? Wes just told us you vomited when you woke up from that faint.”
“I’m fine,” I brushed off his concern. “Nothing a shower and sleep can’t fix.”
“You’d better do that then, Vixen,” Cole suggested from his spot on the couch. “I’m sure Dragomir’s bullshit can wait until morning.”
Vali glared hard at his brother then nodded to me, his eyes softening. “Of course, drag?, I’m not going anywhere.” Cole grunted an angry noise, and I rolled my eyes.
“Whatever; you two have a fun night, and try not to kill each other. We can talk tomorrow.” Leaving them to it, I followed Caleb as he tugged me down the corridor to a bedroom.
“Bathroom’s just through there.” He motioned to the door leading off the bedroom. “I’ll see if I can find you something to sleep in. Most safe houses have spare clothes somewhere.”
“Thanks, Cal.” I pressed a quick kiss on his cheek then took myself into the bathroom to shower off the soot and dirt from my near death experience today, again. This was getting way too damn frequent. What were the odds that in two days I would need to use my newfound magic twice to save the lives of guys I cared for?
Woah, calm down, sunshine. You do not “care for” Vali. That’s the Stockholm Syndrome talking.
If only I could make myself believe that. No matter how hard I tried, my brain just kept seeming to focus on his redeeming qualities and skipping over his casual attitude towards murder and drug running. Every time I tried to remind myself that he was a bad person, all I could see was him catching me as I lost my grip on his window or getting shot trying to save me from Mr. Grey’s men.
“Kitty Kat?” Caleb’s voice cut through my troubling thoughts as he cracked open the bathroom door. “I found some clothes; where did you want me to leave them?”
Having just stepped out of the shower, I laughed when I saw him politely staying on the other side of the door.
“Seriously, Caleb?” I snickered. “Now you’re worried about seeing me naked? What happened to offering to help me wash my hair?” There was a short pause on his side while I wrapped myself in a towel and grabbed another to start drying my hair
“Was that you asking for assistance? Because I am in the business of assisting damsels in distress you know…” The door creaked open a little wider, and I grinned.
“Sadly, you missed the boat. My hair is already washed. I could use some help drying and brushing it though,” I suggested. “I really am feeling a bit off, and my arms hurt just looking at this tangled mess.”
“Your wish is my command, Kitty Kat,” Caleb replied, slipping into the steamy bathroom and closing the door behind him. For a moment, he hesitated where he stood near the door, his gaze heavy on me as he raked his eyes over every inch of wet skin exposed by the too-small towel wrapped around my body.
“What?” I teased. “You act like you've never seen me in a towel before.” A sly smile crept across his face, and I knew I was playing with fire. Despite the circumstances, having just been bombed and five other guys only just down the hall, nothing could make me stop playing with this particular fire. It had been too long coming already.
Tossing my second towel to him, I turned back to the vanity, bending down to grab the hairdryer and a brush out from one of the drawers. Thank goodness someone has kept this house stocked with useful items. If my hair had gone much longer without seeing a brush, it would have needed to be cut off or fashioned into dreadlocks.
As I bent, Caleb sucked in a sharp breath, stepping closer behind me and trailing a finger up the back of my thigh.
“Kitty Kat…” he murmured. “Are you intentionally teasing me?”
With a cheeky grin, I straightened back up and winked at him in the mirror. “Maybe.”
He let out a frustrated groan and held out his hand. “Give me the damn brush.”
For a few minutes, he worked in silence, gently and methodically working the tangles out of my long hair while I kept my hands braced against the sink. Every now and then, as he encountered a particularly nasty snag, my balance was tugged backwards and my towel-covered rear would bump into him. After this had happened several times, he stopped and placed the brush down on the sink, bracing his hands on the counter to either side of mine.
“What's up?” I asked a little breathlessly because I was not totally unaffected by the hardening region my rear had just bumped.
“Fucking Christ, I don't think I can do this,” he muttered, his head hanging to press his forehead on my shoulder.
“Do what?” I teased, being deliberately obtuse. “Brush my hair?”