Brutal Heir (Billionaire Heirs #2)

Chapter 23

Ezequiel

I’m not hooked on the pills. I’m afraid of the nightmares that come when I don’t take them.

I’m still thinking about the message she sent in the middle of the night. It came out of nowhere, and it sounded like she was hurting. I can’t have that.

Did she wake up from one of those nightmares? What kind of trauma did she endure to need drugs to help her sleep? I understand that kind of strain on the body and mind after living through too much shit myself.

The headlights of her truck cut through the darkness in the distance. She doesn’t bother keeping to the speed limit Kelly set up. For some reason, that makes me smile.

She drives past the front of the house, going to the side where I parked her truck last night. Good girl. You never know what kind of danger lurks out here.

I go through the house, past the kitchen, into the mudroom. The motion sensor kicks in, turning on the security light, illuminating the yard around the house. I open the side door and step out in my socks. With my firearm at the back of my waist, I check the area to make sure she’s safe.

She gets out of her truck, closing the door quietly. I can barely see her head over the side of the truck. Part of it is her height, but she seems even shorter than usual.

I knew something was wrong the minute the message came in. Never mind the time, there was something in the tone. While I could have thought it was her being pissy, I trusted my instincts. Turns out I read it right.

She comes around the front of the vehicle, in what has to be bedclothes. This time they’re loose shorts and a gray tank. Her shoulders are slumped. Even in the dim light, I know she’s carrying the weight of the world.

I’m not sure what to do with her now. My natural inclination is to shake her and tell her to suck it up and straighten out. I’m not stupid enough to do that. Doesn’t take much to figure out she’s been through some kind of hell.

She looks up as she reaches the door. Her eyes are vacant, the dark circles under them and the tired expression get to me. She’s totally unlike the stick-up-her-ass security lead I’m used to.

Without saying a word, I push open the security screen to let her in. She walks past me, her steps slow, a pained expression on her face.

I close the door, putting the locks in place behind her then setting the alarm. She’s standing in the kitchen, hands in her pockets, reminding me of a lost little girl. A lonely, lost little girl.

Even though I’m feeling every muscle I overused today, I ignore the pain and scoop her up in my arms. Her eyes widen in surprise.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Sleep,” I say, feeling the strain on half my body. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” This is nowhere near the worst I’ve ever had to push through. And here, I know I’ll have a win at the end.

She nods, seeming relieved.

I carry her to the bedroom and set her in bed. She slips out of her sandals and gets under the covers while I put my gun in the nightstand’s top drawer. I switch off the lamp, leaving us in darkness. She slides over to where she slept last night so I can climb in beside her.

My hand goes to her waist, dragging her back to my side, where she belongs. I wrap my arms around her, settling her against my chest. She takes a deep breath then releases it like a satisfied kitten. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of her hair. The softness of her skin and the warmth of her body soothe me.

I liked what you were wearing yesterday.” That little night dress with the elastic top was damn near perfect. My cock stirs at the memory of finding her in it.

She moves out from under my chin. “The one I had on while I couldn’t tell if I was being fucked?” she says, with some of her sass inching back.

I release her, running my hand over her hip then up her waist. The tank top bunches against my wrist at an angle as my hand climbs up her body to cup her breast. The softness of her skin and the firmness of her nipple under my fingers send a jolt of desire through me. “It did make things a lot easier,” I say, giving her nipple a quick pinch.

She snorts, squeezing me tight and arching just enough to push into my palm.

We lie here quietly, her bare legs tangled with mine. Her grip releases after a while, as she drifts off to sleep. The sound of her breathing lulls me into a sense of peace.

Unanswered questions keep going through my head. What happened to her? What made her this way? Who did this to her? And where can I find the bastard?