Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

“You do too!”

“Only to the extra rooms downstairs. You don’t need to use them. My dungeon is still under construction.”

I laughed throwing the painkillers and antibiotics in my mouth, tilting my head back, downing the water.

I’d developed another unfortunate infection in my thigh two days ago. They’d let me come home on the condition I returned every second day to outpatients for checking until it cleared. Either way, it sucked balls. At least I was on the tail end of the recovery period. Another few days and I would be off the meds.

I grimaced at the taste of the medication before stretching forward to dump the cup and pick up the mug. My side protested the movement, but I didn’t comment. Luc sipped his coffee, giving me a side eye.

I raised an eyebrow at him in question.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Moving in with me.”

I blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a bullet wound.”

“Ha. Soooo funny.” I shook my head. “No. I need to get back into a routine. I need to be home with my things and my clothes and water my plants. Look at my herbs, they’re–”

“Perfectly fine. I watered them.” I blinked at him, looked at the herbs and then back to him. Luc rubbed a hand over his face, rasping fingers across his stubble.

“I’m not comfortable with you being here alone, Em. What happens if you fall in the shower or something?”

“I would die before letting you see me naked.”

Luc grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I guess I shouldn’t mention the ambulance ride then?”

I paused, tea halfway to my mouth. “Wait, what?”

He threw his head back, laughter sending his shaggy hair bouncing. “Gotcha!”

“Dear lord. I… You need to leave. Now!” I shoved him with my good foot and then groaned as my body protested the movement. He grinned, reaching over to rub my left calf.

I turned away, face flaming, but not withdrawing. His fingers were hitting the tight muscles just right.

Luc changed subject. “Pass the remote.”

We settled in, finding a Die Hard marathon.

Three hours later, I woke in bed, pain meds and water on my bedside table, a note tucked under the glass.

Apartment’s locked. Sleep well, Beautiful.

Chapter Twenty

It took me an age to shuffle down the stairs the next morning. My pits were damp, and I couldn’t quite catch my breath by the time I reached the ground. Leaning heavily against the brick wall of the staircase, I raised the arm that wasn’t clutching my cane in limp celebration.

“Yay…!”

“Hey.”

My head shot up as Luc filled my vision. Leaning casually against the outer wall of the apartment building, a coffee cup in one hand, aviator sunglasses protecting him from the glare of the early morning sun, a black and blue collared, long-sleeved shirt open at the neck. He’d left his black jacket open over the long shirt. His spare hand held a second cup of steaming brew.

Luc tilted the first to his mouth for a sip as I struggled to focus.

“What are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you too.” He pushed off the wall, coming to stand in front of me.

“Tea?” He held out the spare cup, as I continued panting and leaning against the brick wall of the stairwell entrance. I ignored the cup.

“Seriously, Luc. What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, still holding out the tea. “I was in the area.”

I looked around the deserted car park. A bike on bricks, my little shitbox car−Rudolph−and Luc’s Alfa Romeo were the only cars in the empty lot.

“You were in the area… Okay, Pinocchio.”

He grinned, eyes crinkling. “You know I love these pet names, Keys.”

I pushed off the wall, not wanting to look weak. He took another sip before pushing his sunglasses up his nose with his thumb.

Birds chirped in the distance, cars passed the empty lot, and I struggled to supress my annoyance.

I was unsuccessful. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

He ignored the question.

“Never seen that dress before.”

My dress was an old gift from Addie. Knee length, I’d paired the robin’s-egg blue patterned sundress with a long coat Kel had gifted me last year, thick tights to ward against the cold, and flats.

I flipped him off, pissed at his lack of answers. I turned, moving towards my car, gritting my teeth against the pain, cane making an angry clicking noise on the pavement as I shuffled forward.

Luc fell into line beside me as we crept towards the car.

“I’m just saying. You look nice. Healthy.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure the general public will assume the cane is a fashion statement.”

“We could take my car, you know.” He talked down to his coffee cup, ignoring my sarcastic statement. I halted, twisting my neck to look up at him.

“I have a car.” I pointed at my little red machine. “See? It even runs.” I sarcastically jingled the keys clutched in my free hand.

“And I have a better one.”

I couldn’t argue with that. His Alfa Romeo was gorgeous.

“Mine is also higher than yours. And you get to sit there and look pretty.” His eyes met mine, a slight smirk on his lips. “And you don’t need to move your foot for the clutch.”

My little Rudolph was a manual. I hadn’t been looking forward to the pain.

“Besides, she needs a good rev. I’ve left her rusting in the garage too long since I got the bike.”

I sighed heavily, shifted to my left, and aimed for his car. I didn’t ask questions, grateful to not have to freaking drive anywhere with this bloody injury. But he didn’t need to know that.

He clicked the locks, and in I slid, taking the cup of tea from him and letting him close the door behind me. As he walked around the car, I released a small groan and breathed deeply against the pain.

We didn’t speak as Luc got in. I took another sip of tea, then glanced over, catching him watching me. “What?”

“You’re not ready to do this.”

I frowned at his tone. “I am doing this. I need