“It wasn’t just a serving. He had a whole roast beef. As in … a bone-in, standing prime rib roast. I believe they said it weighed sixteen pounds.”
Sarah blinked. “Jeez, what was dessert—an entire pie?”
“Vanilla ice cream.”
“Oh, that’s more reasonable. It’s not like he ate a whole half gallon.”
“And the pie.”
“What?”
“He ate a half gallon of vanilla ice cream with an apple pie. He’s in a food coma now.”
Sarah threw her head back and laughed. Part of it was relief. Part of it was lack of sleep. Part of it was … the smile on the commando’s face: Because he felt the same way she did, that connected them.
And she liked being connected to him.
“What is your name,” she said as she caught her breath. When he hesitated, she shrugged. “Come on, I already know everything. Well, a lot of things, at any rate. Your name is a simple thing, right?”
The commando cleared his throat. “I come from a warrior tradition.”
She looked up and down his magnificent body. “Really? And here I thought you were a baker.”
The fact that he laughed again made her feel good.
“No,” he said. “I don’t make bread or rolls.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“Ah, no.”
“Okay, well, don’t feel bad. Neither have I. You were saying? You’re a badass?”
That smile got bigger. But then faded into a wince. “So our names … the names we are given are meant to inspire fear. They are identifiers of our nature as defenders of the race—”
Sarah put her palm up. “Just tell me. How bad can it be?”
“Murhder. My name is Murhder.”
She laughed. And then her mouth fell open before she could catch herself. “Wait, you’re serious.” When he nodded, she tried to compose herself. “Oh. Wow. Is—um, is that first or last?”
“Last. My first name is Cold-Blooded.” As she did a double take, he smiled shyly. “I’m joking. It’s just Murhder.”
Sarah broke out in a laugh. “Did you make a funny?”
He blushed. “I did. I made a joke.”
He was so hesitant, so … endearingly unsure of the humor … that she wanted to hug him.
“That’s a good one.” She got up out of the chair. “And I am starved. Do you know where food is?”
“I do. Everyone’s gone up to the big house for First Meal, but there’s a break room down the way. And yes, Nate’s being monitored by machines with loads of alarms. If he needs anything, people are going to come running, including us.”
“Good. Let’s do this.”
Sarah followed the commando’s—Murhder’s—lead, heading down the concrete corridor and coming up to Nate’s hospital room. Opening the door, she leaned in and reassured herself that he was, indeed, sound asleep, a slight snore rising from his man’s throat.
“I still can’t believe what he went through,” she murmured.
Murhder’s voice was quiet. “It’s just the way it works for us.”
Making sure the door closed silently, they continued down the hall, walking side by side—and it felt normal. Natural. As if she had been striding next to him for years.
“So how’s your work with John?”
She exhaled. “Well, they refuse to tell me how he was injured. It’s the one piece I don’t have, but I’m working around that. At the end of the day, the ‘how’ is not as important as the ‘where.’ ”
“Like in the shoulder location?”
“No, as in the status of the wound. I mean, on a molecular level, where are we—is it getting worse? What can I do to make it better? This kind of thing.” She glanced around. “Speaking of which, where are we?” And then she held her palm up. “I know you probably can’t tell me, but I’m just … who paid for all this? Where does the money come from?”
“Here, let me get the door for you.”
As he jumped ahead and opened the way into a cafeteria-like space, she knew he wasn’t going to answer any of those questions—and it was a reminder that she was just a visitor here. Not a new resident.
Sarah stopped abruptly and stared at the dorm couches, the tables with chairs, the vending machines and the hot and cold buffet that was stocked with food that smelled delicious.
“I won’t remember anything,” she said in a rough voice.
When she looked over at Murhder, he met her eyes. “No. Nothing.”
In the silence that stretched out between them, she tried to memorize everything about him, from the fall of his incredible hair to his strong, handsome face, from his broad shoulders and heavy chest to his long, long