“Thank you for that,” she said, breathless. Her cheeks were red, but he wasn’t ready to wait around. “I’ve always been curious about club cock. Will you put in a good word for me at the club?”
“No, the men will f**k you if you want it. It’s up to you to do the rest.”
He left the bathroom, grabbing another coffee and making his way back to Prue’s bedside. She was still asleep. The doctor had sedated her so she wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. Sitting in the chair beside her bed, he watched her sleep, thinking about the nurse. He shouldn’t have f**ked her, not with Prue hurting in the hospital. Fuck, he felt guilty now.
Sipping his coffee, he stared at her and waited for sanity to return. Why had she replaced Sophia’s face? For so long he’d been wanting Nash’s woman, and now she was replaced. No, he didn’t have a thing for Prue. She was sweet, loving, and his deceased friend’s sister. He wasn’t going to do anything with Prue.
Sophia. Sitting back, he closed his eyes thinking about her dark hair and blue eyes. She was so perfect … so taken. Nash didn’t deserve for him to take his woman. Could you really take Sophia away from him?
Again, Prue invaded his thoughts, annoying him. Cutting the thoughts aside, he finished off his coffee, throwing the empty cup away. The coffee was rancid, and he needed the good stuff. When he couldn’t get comfortable on the chair, he saw there was plenty of room on one side of Prue.
It had been a long time since he’d held her. He really needed to hold her now to make sure she was really alive. What was wrong with him sleeping beside her? Zero had held her all through the night when her parents died. This was no different.
Only, you’re having sexy thoughts about her whereas when she was fifteen you didn’t.
Hesitating, he watched Prue sleeping. Was it wrong for him to hold her?
He got to his feet and sat beside her, making sure all the wires hooked up to her were out of the way. Sliding an arm underneath her head, he brought her toward his chest, getting her to lie against him.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” he said. Her heat surrounded him.
Wrapping his arms around her, he settled down on the bed, stroking her hair. The smell of the hospital was replaced by the scent of Prue. The feel of her against him comforted in ways he’d not felt in a long time.
“I’m so sorry for putting you in danger, Prue.”
She didn’t respond, and he felt like a complete bastard. How did Alan know where to look for her? How did Alan survive what he did?
Fuck. He’d turned his back on the man dying without checking to see if he was alive or dead. Lighting the match and setting fire to Alan, he’d not waited around to see if anyone went inside the building or came out. It was his mistake.
His body started to feel sluggish as the lack of sleep finally caught up with him. Rubbing a hand down his face, he looked up at the ceiling, thinking of ways to stay awake.
Don’t fall asleep. Stay awake.
Zero glanced down staring at her shocking red hair. She really was a beauty. Was there a man waiting for her back at home? When he visited her after The Darkness attacked him she hadn’t been with anyone. Much could change in over a year. He hated the thought of another man being in her life, meaning something to her.
Surely Prue wasn’t dating anyone.
Why wouldn’t she be dating anyone? She’s a f**king beauty.
Jealousy spiked through him at the thought of any other man touching her. Prue was never supposed to be with anyone.
Closing his eyes, Zero could not hold sleep off any longer and drifted off to sleep with Prue in his arms. His guard was down to anything but the feel of her back with him. Peace.
****
Heat surrounded Prue making her feel comforted for the first time since she’d lost her parents. Opening her eyes, she felt sluggish, and the pain was no longer there. She looked across to see Zero passed out beside her on the hospital bed. Everything that happened last night came crashing through her. Jerking up, she gasped as the sudden jolt sent a hard pain through her chest where she’d been shot. Fuck, she’d been shot, and Alan had been here.
“Prue, honey, what’s the matter?” Zero asked, waking up.
Tears filled her eyes as she stared back at him. “Alan’s back.”
He sat up, climbing off the bed. “What do you mean? I know he’s the one who shot you, but do you mean he’s back?”
She nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Her glasses were gone, and she was struggling to see without them. “Yes, he was here last night.” She’d never have dreamt something so disturbing. Alan was in her room, threatening Zero by using her.
“In your room?”
“Yes, he was here last night, Zero.” She recalled his touch with disgust. “He’s a monster.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. He said he’s waited ten years, and now he’s going to enjoy playing this game. Why wait ten years, and why is he playing games? Why doesn’t he just kill us?” The words filled her with dread even though she had to say them.
“He was inside your room last night?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck. Blaine didn’t even have a clue anyone was in your room until you were screaming.”
“Why wait all this time?” Prue asked.
“I don’t know. He said something about playing a game?”
“Yeah. The game of cat and mouse where we’re the mouse.”
“I’ve not got a clue, Prue. I don’t know why he waited, and I don’t know what he’s got planned.”
“He’s scarred, Zero, and scary.” She swallowed at what he’d done. There had been nothing she could do to stop Alan’s touch.
Looking up at Zero, she saw the anger in his face. “What did he do and say?”
She told him everything that happened from the touching to the words. She didn’t leave anything out even as Zero cursed, slamming his fist into the wall. Looking at him, she saw his knuckles were bloody and bruised. There were no bruises on his face though, and he gave no sign that he was in pain.
“Why are your hands cut up?” she asked, feeling nervous.
“I got into a fight last night.” He lifted up his shirt to show her some of the bruises. They were hard to make out as his stomach and chest were covered in ink. He was like a walking talking advertisement for tattoo parlors. Where there was tanned skin, she saw the purple bruising. “He’s going to play a game?”