Page 27 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
I make my way through the halls of the dark, quiet house. The guards are at their usual places, giving me a nod as I pass, but their presence doesn’t make me feel safe anymore. I’m concerned about the ongoing situation with the Brunos…or, no, let’s be honest—I’m scared shitless about it. Dante reminding us all about Frankie’s kidnapping opened up a new hole inside me and dumped a ton of fresh anxiety and fear into it. What if something like that happens to Karina?
Quietly, I open my bedroom door and slip inside. I drop my shoes and jacket in the sitting room and then pad softly toward the bed. The curtains are partially open, letting moonlight in. It falls in a soft shadow across the bed, where Karina is lying on top of the covers with a book facedown next to her. She fell asleep reading Sense and Sensibility, it appears.
Smiling, I gently pick up the book, tuck a tissue between the pages to mark her place, and set it on the nightstand. She’s dressed still, in a pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie. I ache to pull those clothes right off her, tug one of my T-shirts over her head, tuck her under the blankets…but I know better than to take liberties with her body. She’s made her position on the matter abundantly clear.
Unfolding a blanket from the foot of the bed, I arrange it over her while studying her sleeping face. I can’t look away. She’s so strong, but so fragile at the same time. I shudder to think of her in Livvie’s place. The stories I’ve heard about how her uncle raised her leave no doubt in my mind that the man is a monster and a sadist.
The fact that my wife grew up getting locked in torture chambers and being emotionally abused makes me restless and furious whenever I’m reminded of it. Moving from the bed, I turn to the windows and look out, but the view does nothing to calm me. The yard below is composed of shapes and shadows, bits and pieces highlighted by the moon. Anyone could be hiding out there, ready to pounce. It doesn’t matter that we’re heavily guarded and that I trust in our men. Some threats are so slippery, you can never let your guard down.
Glancing down at myself, I realize my clothes are stained and dirty from the night’s events. Dammit, I should have cleaned up before I came in here. I don’t want the grime of this evening touching her, or for Karina to wake up and see me looking so obviously tainted. She’s innocent in all this.
Isn’t she?
But as I stand under the scalding spray of the shower soon after, I can’t stop worrying: What if Armani is right? What if his gut feeling is correct, and Karina betrayed us?
I don’t know what hurts worse. Thinking of her being ripped away from me, or finding out she’s a spy.
Either one would completely destroy me.
