Page 98 of Butterfly Assassin
“Time’s up, guys. We need to get going.” The two paramedics moved to load him into the ambulance, and Aaron stepped to the side.
“I need to go back with Sam and the others,” he said, sounding reluctant to leave.
Michael waved him away. “Go. As soon as I get back to London, I’ll call you.”
“You promise?”
“I’m a man of my word, you know that.”
Grinning, Aaron nodded. “I do.”
The doors of the ambulance closed and Michael shut his eyes, smiling.
An SCTF officer and a shifter. It sounded like either the opening line of a joke or a fairy tale.
Frank would tell him it was the first one, but as the pain meds flooded his system, Michael liked to think it was the latter. But instead of a Prince Charming, he got a bare-knuckle fighting shifter.
My Butterfly Assassin.
He had so many questions to ask and things he wanted to find out about Aaron. As he lay there, pleasantly numb from the pain, he realised two things. One, he would’ve waited however long it took to be with him because Aaron was special and they’d be great together.
And two, with the case virtually done, he didn’t have to wait any longer.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Two weeks later…
Michael woke to the sound of a text message on his phone. Smiling, he reached for it, having a good idea who it’d be from.
Morning.
Aaron had sent the same message every day since Michael had got out of the hospital. They’d stitched him up and were only going to keep him in a day or so, but he’d developed a nasty infection from the wounds in his side.
He’d ended up being there just over a week before they’d let him home.
Morning, he sent back, stretching gently.
His stitches were all out, but the soreness remained, would do for another two to three weeks according to the doctors. Being shot turned out to be the least of his injuries—that healed up nicely. Blake had made a mess of his left side, claws tearing through the skin, leaving behind five short, jagged, and ugly-looking scars.
The ones on his neck and shoulder were cleaner, less noticeable as they healed.
Michael was just thankful he and Miller made it out of there in one piece. Although Miller’s recovery would take a little longer, he was alive and that was the important thing. Wilson survived, too, which had a massive impact on their case against Blake.
Blake and White had snatched him from one of White’s coffee shops. White was in there doing his monthly inspection when he overheard Wilson on the phone to his sister. He knew then that Wilson wasn’t from a London pack and therefore wouldn’t be missed. He must have called Blake, laced Wilson’s coffee to incapacitate him enough. Wilson remembered going to the toilet but not much afterwards. They probably injured him somehow to weaken him and, according to the hospital reports, kept him drugged the whole time they had him. Luckily for the SCTF, although Wilson lacked the strength to fight back, he was conscious for most of it, and both White and Blake liked to talk.
Michael was due back in the office tomorrow and Frank had offered to pick him up. He couldn’t wait.
With a sigh, he sat up and pulled on some pyjama bottoms. Better get used to getting up early again.
When his phone buzzed, Michael picked it up and walked into the kitchen, reading as he went.
Still ok for me to come round?
Yes. Looking forward to it.Michael grinned as he typed, but a niggle of uncertainty crept into his good mood.
This would be the first time they’d seen each other since that night. Michael had been recovering, and Aaron was busy with work. They’d texted, but it wasn’t the same as seeing someone in person.
What if the spark they’d felt before was gone? What if it was only because of the case they were working on? If they saw each other and the attraction between them had fizzled out, how awkward would that be? More so if it was one-sided.
