Murder_ A Sinful Secrets Romance - Ella James Page 0,151

tell by the way he moves that he’s trying to be careful with me, but he is drunk.

I giggle some more. His steps are slightly unsteady.

“My mule,” I cackle.

My mind whirls. Isn’t that what Elvie used to say? If I got ugly, he’d send me away on a mule?

“You’re my mule,” I whisper again. Goodness fills me, soft and warm and right as rain.

EIGHT

BARRETT

“Barrett?”

The clear, sharp voice is out of place. It doesn’t go with what I’m seeing: Gwen’s small body, crumpled, her hair spread around her head, her blood leaking on the roadside. I hear my name a few more times, but it’s just background noise. I’m consumed with what is wrong with Gwen. I’ve got this feeling I should know, but my brain’s sluggish. I don’t understand. How did she get here? Her face is white and slack. Her lips are stained with dark liquid that drips out of the corner of her mouth and down her throat, into the snow.

I drop down beside her, but my knees sink into the warm puddle of blood, and I have to turn away. My stomach lurches. I cup my hand over my mouth. After a second struggling to shut my stomach down, I remind myself that I’m an Operator—and this is Gwen; I love her! Then I put my hands under her hips and shoulders and lift her.

As I pull her onto my lap, warmth spills over my lap. My throat constricts.

“Oh God…” My hands loosen their grip on her. I almost drop her; then I hold her to my chest and sob.

“Gwen…oh God… Oh God, oh please…”

“Barrett—I’m okay.” The voice is distant: background noise.

Our bodies shake together. “Oh my God…Breck. Gwen…”

“Bear… Baby. It’s me—it’s Gwenna. Open your eyes, baby… Look at me.”

I’m looking up at Gwen. Relief transforms her features as she clasps my cheeks and pulls my face toward her.

I wrap my arms around her.

“Bear…that’s right.” I feel her hand stroke my cheek, feel her rocking me. I blink around. The lights…

“That’s right.” Her voice is a thick whisper. “You see the lights?”

I hear her, see them, but…the snow. I smell the salt and I can feel the blood and Ly and Mom and Breck…all dead. I feel myself shaking, am aware some distant somewhere that Gwen’s arms are around me. I’m shaking…and trying not lose it.

“It’s okay....”

I blink and realize I’m lying in Gwen’s lap with my arms around myself. One hand is clutching my face. Shaking…

I try to think of something I can tell her, but my mind feels stuck. Oh, fuck. Freaking out like this…

I told myself I wouldn’t—

I frown up at her. She looks…fine.

A shiver moves through my shoulders. Her face blurs, so I can’t tell if she is…

“Gwen?”

Her eyes are gentle. “Barrett?” Her arms pull me closer. I close my eyes and grit my teeth and try to breathe. It’s all still there—the things that blow me open…and the blood…and…

“Come here… Let’s lay down.” She does, and I half fall on her.

I wince, trying to shift back on my arms so I’m not lying right on her.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, holding me against her.

I can’t stop the flow of tears. Can’t forget what I saw. I can see the blood on her mouth. I cut my eyes so I can see her face—she’s lying on the pillow—searching for the damage that I fear will be there...

I find her brows are drawn together. Her hand cups my cheek as she searches my face.

“Hang on a minute, baby…” Gwenna sits up. I shift onto my side, feeling unsteady and weird. She’s gone for a moment, and then she’s moving in my field of vision with a big blanket. She spreads it over me. It’s oddly heavy

“That’s my weighted blanket.” I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she pulls it up to my mid-back. My eyelids seem to grow heavy with it. Gwenna doesn’t seem real.

“Okay, now…” She does her best to wrap her hands under my arms and tug me up against her, guiding my head to her soft belly. I can feel her body curl around mine. “Feel that blanket? It’s keeping you here…with me. You’re okay here. Nothing is the matter in this time and place, okay?” She holds me tightly as her whispered words flow through me. Things feel like they’re swirling around me.

I smell the blood. Regret and horror swell like balloons in my chest, until I can barely breathe enough to whisper, “I’m sorry.” I feel