Page 48 of Reverie

I try to keep my tears at bay. “Like, ever?” My voice is thin, strangled.

He rubs the back of my neck, pressing into the tense muscles on my good side.

“I don’t know about forever. But for the time being, we need to stay locked down. At least until we figure out what our next moves are.”

And who is “we?”

When a tear plops on my lap, I sniffle and wipe my face with the back of my hand.

“What did they do with Rex?” I ask, my voice hoarse. I think the image of the bodyguard’s head half blown off will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Hunter rubs the back of his neck before saying, “Misha will have him cremated.”

We’re both silent for a long moment. I look back at my food; my appetite has completely vanished.

“Rex didn’t have much family, but I’ll make sure they are taken care of. He knew the risks of the job and that he could die at any moment. I’m sure his loved ones knew too. Either way, they’ll have his remains and the money that’s promised to go to them in this situation.”

Hunter seems so detached from his words, as if he isn’t speaking about the death of a person who was close to our family.

I bite my lip and nod. “That sounds good, H,” I reply.

Hunter leans on the counter, pressing his hands together as he leans forward on his elbows. He keeps his body still as he looks at me directly.

“Okay, so,” I take another deep breath. “Third question. What are we doing next?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but I don’t let go of the question.

“Sunbeam, how do I put this,” he begins.

I frown. “You ‘put this’ in whatever context equates to the full truth. It’s quite simple, Hunter.”

The muscle in his jaw twitches, and he straightens before taking a step. He settles a foot away from me with his hip leaning against the island, his arms crossed.

“Winter, this is dangerous,” he says.

“You think I don’t know that?” I point to my bandaged shoulder.

His face hardens.

“Winter, I need for you to sit this out. We’re safe here in Misha’s compound. Hell, the place used to be a fucking military base. I’ll figure it out from here.”

Both of my eyebrows are damn near in my hairline.

“Oh, really?” I deadpan.

He doesn’t add anything further, but when I scoff, he moves to grab a cup from the cupboard. A few moments later, a tall glass of ice water materializes next to my now-cold soup.

I push the bowl and glass away.

“Winter,” he grits through his tight jaw. He pulls my seat back, spinning me to face him in one smooth movement. When he leans over me with one palm flat on the counter and the other grasping my good shoulder, he gets so close that I can count the flecks of gold in his blue eyes.

“I’m trying here, Winter. I really am. But you keep pushing and pushing, and why can’t you just be content to rest? To heal? To grow our child?”

Anger causes my shoulders to go up, which pisses me off because the action hurts.

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to sit back while the men go off to war? Yeah, that works,” I bite out.

“No, Sunbeam, you’re supposed to let me take care of you.”