Crowed (Team Zero #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,22

arm, and I have to gulp down the reflex to pull away as he continues. “I’m just worried about your schedule. Afternoon and night shifts are bound to wear you down. You won’t get much time to sleep.”

“I’ll be fine. Promise.”

When Xavier keeps smiling in that boyish manner, but doesn’t remove his hand, the urge to jerk my arm free overwhelms me. But I don’t do it. I need to test what I came out here for.

I have to prove all the craziness that happened with Crow was a mere manifestation of my hormones. It could happen with any man.

I stare at Xavier, returning his smile. He’s nice. Unlike Crow’s rugged and dark features, Xavier is handsome with a clean look. He’s popular amongst the nurses for his suave manners. I would never, until the end of my days, forget how he stood by my side when Maman was suffering.

But...

Beside gratitude and respect, I feel nothing for him. The ignition point is completely absent. No spark. No confusion.

I focus on his lips and imagine kissing them. The only picture that jumps to mind is full, alluring lips and thick arms surrounding me in a strong hold. His arms. His lips. His touch.

Only Crow’s.

Merde.

I shake my head. These fantasies about the killer living under my roof need to go.

Surely, with time, all this foolishness will go away and I’ll go back to the safe state I’ve existed in for so long.

Definitely.

I swiftly pull my arm from underneath Xavier’s fingers and take a sip of my espresso. I lift my head to gaze out of the window.

Crow

I choke, almost spitting the mouthful of coffee all over myself and Xavier. A foreign jolt flips both my chest and stomach.

“La vache!” Xavier retrieves a napkin and wipes the droplets that have escaped my mouth. He’s saying something, but it doesn’t register.

My entire attention is on the man straddling his bike across the street. Even from this distance, I can make out those broad shoulders covered by the black leather jacket.

What is he doing in the town centre?

Before I can analyse the situation, his bike weaves into the crowded street and disappears out of sight.

I blink as if that could bring back his presence.

The idiot. Doesn’t he know that he’s wanted? Not that the police have a concrete picture of him or that they know he’s a foreigner, but his massive physique stands out. Add a scary-looking bike, tattoos, and leather and he’s like a bulb spotlighting himself.

A hot as hell bulb.

Oh la la.

It’s none of my business. He can be arrested for all I care.

Absolutely.

“Eloise?” Xavier is waving a hand in front of my face.

“Hmm?” I focus on him, sure I must’ve missed most of what he’s been saying.

“Ça va?” He glances between me and to where I’ve been staring. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Yes.

Something is definitely wrong if I continue having these types of reactions around a dangerous stranger.

I can’t allow him to toy with my safe zone.

With time, I’m sure the confusion will dissipate and I’ll go back to being me.

Definitely.

Hopefully.

*****

In the early morning hours, right before dawn, I go home, exhausted and packed with groceries and beer. I need to sleep for at least one or two hours, and alcohol sometimes helps.

The front door creaks as I push it with my foot, balancing the grocery bags in my hands.

When I don’t hear Charlotte’s running feet or her ‘welcome home’ barks, dread looms over me. The bags become a lot heavier than a second ago.

“Charlotte?” I call, my voice high pitched.

Nothing.

“Charlotte?” My lips tremble.

A muffled whine fills the air. Like someone is hurting her.

I drop the bags and run up the stairs, not feeling my legs or caring if I fall and break my damn neck.

If something happens to her, I wouldn’t forgive myself.

My eyes fill with tears at the thought of losing her.

I’m done losing my loved ones. Not Charlotte, too. Please.

My steps slow as I approach the master bathroom where the muffled sound is coming from.

Pulses fill my ears as I push the ajar door open with sweaty hands.

My jaw drops open.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I’m seeing. Instead of the horror I imagined, Charlotte is being... bathed.

Her tail is wiggling back and forth in the tub as Crow pours water on her fur. He rinses the shampoo while rubbing her belly. Whenever he stops stroking her, she whines in that muffled sound that gave me a fright.

Crow’s back is facing me, outlined by a plain black T-shirt. I can’t