Hostile Territory - Marie James Page 0,10

of contention between the two.

“I don’t know who it was. I thought it was her, remember?”

This conversation is going absolutely nowhere.

“If it wasn’t Dani, then I’m just going to go home.”

I don’t exactly relish the idea of walking out of here on bare, injured feet, but the fear I felt in my apartment earlier has been replaced with anger at being around Deacon once again, and that’s enough irritation to keep me going for a lifetime. The relief that it isn’t Dani also makes my lungs seize and my eyes burn with unshed tears. I’d like to have my breakdown in private because I don’t put it past this jerk to gain comic relief from my pain.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he snaps before I can even get fully turned away from him.

“Excuse me.” I spin around and nearly lose my balance. Deacon lifts an arm to catch me, but I’m lucky enough to manage it on my own without him putting his hand on me. I wouldn’t be able to stand even that miniscule amount of help from him.

“You’re hurt—”

“Blisters from shoes aren’t exactly a fatal wound.”

“—and until we know what the hell—”

“I’ll be fine.”

“—is going on, it may not be safe going back to your building.”

We talk over each other, but I still hear what he says.

“Not safe?” I question, and just with his simple words, I grow frightened again.

I may lose my mind before all of this mess is over with. My emotions are firing a million miles an hour, and I don’t have a damn clue where it’s going to land next.

“There was so much blood, Deacon.” I lower my head and look down at my phone and shoes in my hands. “The EMTs’ gloves were covered in it. Cops were everywhere. If it wasn’t her, where is she?”

His throat works on a swallow as tears begin to roll down my cheeks. “I don’t know, but you’re stuck here until we figure it out. Let Jude get those wounds cleaned up. You won’t be walking any runways if they get infected.”

My jaw hangs open, but he doesn’t even notice because in a blink, he’s disappearing into an office on the other side of the room. How much does he remember? How much did he pay attention to me way back when? He knew I wanted to be a model? A pipe dream that never came to fruition, but still. He remembered? I can’t even allow myself to be angry that his words were another barb, another insult about the differences in our lives.

“Follow me,” Jude says as he walks past.

Looking around the room, I find Ignacio off the phone and staring in my direction. When I notice the charming Brooks doing the same, I duck my head and follow the guy back down the hallway. The second he shoves open a door, the lights flash on, revealing a room stuffed with enough medical supplies to make most free-standing clinics jealous.

He points to an exam table on the far wall, and like the obedient child I never was, I hop up on the table without argument.

After washing his hands, he gathers supplies and spreads them out on a small rolling table.

“How long have you known Deacon?”

He doesn’t say a word as he pulls on latex gloves, unwraps some gauze, and pops the top on a new bottle of saline.

I hiss when the cool fluid flows over my sores, and I expect him to grip me hard when his free hand presses to the back of my calf to hold me steady, but surprisingly his touch is gentle, much the same way I’d expect a doctor in a hospital to be.

“I didn’t even know he was out of the military,” I continue.

I’m left without a response once again.

“You’re not curious about me?”

This causes his eyes to lift up to mine, but he still doesn’t open his mouth.

I give him a sweet smile, one that has worked for me numerous times in the past, but he doesn’t seem fazed by the miniscule charm I’m trying to lure him in with. I want details on Deacon. I want to know what he’s been up to for some reason. Is he even up to the challenge of locating Dani? Is she even missing? Did someone take her and hurt her? Was her blood in the condo as well?

I keep the questions coming before my mind can run through every episode of CSI I’ve watched and start coming to horrific conclusions about my

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