Perfect Vision (The Vision Series Book 2) by L.M. Halloran

Author:L.M. Halloran [Halloran, L.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

29

By the time Cross is done with me, I’m boneless and teetering on the edge of sleep. He lays me gently on his bed, tucking blankets around me. They smell deliciously of him.

“Sleep, sweetheart.”

I do. Mercifully, I don’t dream. No nightmares, nothing. When I wake, it’s to soft, masculine voices in the living area of the loft. Rolling over, I grab my phone off the nightstand to check the time. It reads 10:47 a.m. Thanks to the heavy blackout curtains, I missed the sun rising and most of the morning.

Though I only slept a little over five hours, I’m alert and refreshed. Even when in the past I’ve caved and popped a sleeping pill, it’s rare for me to experience rest free from any dreams. Is this how normal people feel in the morning? I don’t remember anymore.

Stretching lazily, I focus on the voices. Cross and… Liam Rourke. Their tones are low, but bits and pieces hit my ears.

“…security feeds caught him leaving right after…”

“…staying in the city?”

“…LAX this morning. Missed him.”

There’s a long pause, then Cross mutters, “What the hell is she hiding?”

Sitting up fast, I clutch the blanket to my chest. Last night comes back in a vicious surge. You haven’t been forgotten. The Old Man says hello. Delayed fear makes an appearance, shooting chills down my body.

Stupid. So stupid to think he’d let me go, let me live free of his influence. His evil. Of course he knows where I am, where I live, work. He probably has my phone tapped, my bank accounts watched.

What does he want from me? Better yet, what do I have left to give him?

He’s already taken everything.

“You’re up. Did we wake you?”

Cross leans on the doorjamb, arms crossed over his bare chest. Low-slung pajama pants hug his lean hips and show off his inhumanly-cut physique. Normally, the visual treat has a notable effect on my lady parts. Not this time. He told me once I wear every emotion on my face, but when I look at him now, I’m blank. Empty. He sees nothing because I am nothing.

“It’s all right.” I swing my legs off the bed. “Mind if I shower before heading home?”

His eyes narrow. “That’s fine. How are you feeling?”

I smile. “Good. Great, actually. Thanks for, um…”

He smirks. “Three orgasms?”

“Yep! Slept like a log.”

“Good. I forgot to ask—how did Nathan like his gift?”

“He loved it. Thanks again for the hook-up.” Dragging the blanket with me, I edge toward the bathroom. “Is Liam still here?”

Cross watches me with predatory focus as I shuffle across the room. “He just left.”

I nod. “Okay, well…” I’m almost there.

“London.”

“Yes?”

“While I can respect your need for privacy, our conversation from last night isn’t over. When I said you were mine, I meant it. I will find out what you’re hiding from me.”

My shell cracks. Staring into his dark eyes, my conviction wavers. Maybe I can trust him. Maybe he can help me. Then I remember—the last person who tried to help me is dead. The possibility of Cross suffering the same fate has my walls closing high and tight.

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