work it out.” Not giving her time to object, he gently helped her into his pickup and buckled her in, using the blanket for extra padding under the strap.
She shouldn’t go with him. This was foolish and cruel to him. Only… Her breathing hitched as she stared at her cabin. What would she do otherwise?
Bull turned to Hawk. “You ready to go?”
His brother’s expression was unreadable. “I’ll catch a ride with Caz.”
“Fuck,” Bull said under his breath. “Sure, bro. See you tomorrow.”
As the pickup bounced around the lake and to the Hermitage, she struggled to stay calm. To not cry.
The thought of everything she’d have to do now was overwhelming. How could she put her life together and still get Kit out?
Those men had burned the cabins and tried to make sure she and the other renters would burn to death. Just because they’d fought with Dante? That was just…incomprehensible. Shivers shook her.
I want to go home, to my own bright apartment, my plants in the windows. Where things sound right and smell right. The need rose inside her so hard she felt like she was five again, lost on the streets of New York, the noise and people and sights too much to handle. All turned around with no way to get home.
She’d cried that day.
Tears pooled in her eyes as the world outside turned into a blur.
For the few minutes of the drive, she managed to keep it together.
When Bull let Gryff into the house, the dog was all wagging tail and little whines because she was upset. Burying her face in his soft fur, she hugged him.
“Come, Frankie. You’ll feel better once you’re cleaned up.” Bull helped her to her feet and took her upstairs to his giant bathroom. He turned on the shower, checking the temperature with a hand.
Unable to even think, she simply stood. But when he turned and studied her, she squared her shoulders. “I’m good. Really.”
“Yes, you are. You’re tough.” He dropped a light kiss on her mouth and left, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.
The sound of water reminded her that she’d really needed to pee for, like, forever. A minute later, she felt so much better.
In the shower, the hot water ran over her, sluicing away dirt. Despite the stinging of her burns and scrapes, she washed and shampooed until the clean, crisp scent of Bull’s soap replaced the stink of smoke. And she felt…better, like she was getting things under control.
Wrapping a huge towel around herself, Frankie stepped out of the big shower stall and found Bull leaning against the counter. Clean and in fresh clothes, he must have taken a shower downstairs. She pulled the towel tighter. “I’m not dressed.”
His firm lips edged upward. “I hate to tell you this, Ms. Bocelli, but I’m pretty sure I’ve not only seen everything you’ve got—but nibbled on it, too.”
He had, of course he had, but that was then. Things were different now. So horribly, sadly different. She shook her head at him.
His black eyes softened to liquid night. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He ran his hand over his shaved skull. “However, we need to get those burns and scrapes taken care of, and there are some I don’t think you can reach.”
“No, it’s me who’s sorry.” She looked down. Along with the dirt, it seemed her energy had washed away in the shower. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. I don’t mean to act like you’re some bad guy.”
She blinked hard as a lump filled her throat. Cazzo, not again.
His callused hand cupped her chin, and he lifted her head. Saw her eyes swimming in tears.
“Hell.” Very, very gently, he pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest, all his virile power shut down for the moment. “You sure had a crappy day.”
The sympathy in his dark, deep voice was too much. Her shoulders started to shake as she battled the tears—and lost.
She cried, big noisy sobs, as he held her, stroked her hair, and told her she was brave. That she’d be fine. That she was safe. With him. Low, quiet murmurs. Impossibly solid strength. And warm arms around her.
Why did he have to be so truly kind?
She dragged in a breath and another before pulling back. He released her immediately.
“I… Thank you. I needed that, I guess.” She had. Her head no longer felt as if it was filled with molasses. The weight was gone from her chest.
Unfortunately, the damage to her