Page 76 of Stealth Mission
Arms crossed, the head bodyguard from the mayor’s mansion is standing next to a big black SUV with a classic sneer straight out of a Cold War movie on his face.
I step forward, since the others don’t know him. “Vik, what are you doing here?”
He glances toward the hospital. “Marianna called me.”
My eyelids flinch on their way down to a narrowed glare.
“Why?”
“Because she knows I am the only person who can keep you away from her if you decide not to listen to her wishes.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I press my fingers into the hollow of my cheeks. The under eye bags are darker today. But the hollowness in my gaze is what stands out the most.
Something inside me broke.
I glance down at the clean bandage on my thigh, bright white against my tanned skin. There’s hardly any pain today.
At least in my leg.
Inside my chest? That’s a totally different story. Only it doesn’t stop there. There’s an ache in my throat. A pain in my head. Stinging behind my eyes. A fuzzy nervousness in my belly, too.
All tangled with a dark emptiness.
Two days haven't done a single thing for these feelings. If anything, they’re worse.
I pull on a dress. Yes, another one. I didn’t even know I owned so many, but it feels like the smart thing to do given the bandage. Anything else would rub it.
With one last look in the mirror, I shake my head, wondering if I should put on some make-up. Mellie would be squealing right now. But I decide swiftly, this is as good as it gets.
That hollow look can’t be covered up. It’s only going to get better when I get over Walt… Evan.
Freaking A. I don’t even know what name to call him.
A terrible thought draws me up short. I reach for the frame of the door, with a pain lancing through my chest. What if neither of those names are real?
A cold sensation crawls up my spine.
Not going to think about that.
I can’t question everything. By the time I cross the room, I’ve run the loop inside my head again. Everything the man ever said to me is on slow motion replay.
It’s maddening. With a huff, I jerk open my bedroom door. It bangs loudly, bouncing off the wall, making me cringe.
Stop, Marianna. You’re driving yourself crazy.
Ha. I’m already there.
The tile is cool below my feet, but my temper is hot, as I pad into my kitchen.
The smell of aftershave is the first thing that hits me.
It’s weird to have someone in the house.
Since my grandfather died, it’s just been me.
Today, just like yesterday, Vik, the barbarian bodyguard, is at the kitchen counter, his head ducked, looking at something on his laptop.