Rage's Story (Vanish Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the cooler air of the room wrap my bare upper body. I position my back against the arm, then pull back the blanket to reveal the bandage. It’s a perfect square, white, with a small red dot in its center. She did a good job. Far better than I’ve received from my brothers.
    “How do you feel?” she asks.
    I take a deep breath, then release through my nostrils. I nod, placing a hand lightly against the dressing. “Thank you.”
    She smiles in return and it lights up the room. Who is this angel, willing to accept a drifter on the brink of death, whose wounds link to some seedy element, the danger of which would scare most, who smiles now upon me and fills my chest with warmth, whose skin I dream of, and whose smell now rests in the forefront of my mind, a precious scent I seek like a lowly hound? This woman, she makes me ache. And I don’t know her. But I feel more connected than I have in years. Auna. My angel. She’ll save me yet.
    Christ. These thoughts, a fool’s. She must find me repulsive. What she’s done for me, a mere humanitarian gesture of kindness, no need for love.
    Her smile still rests on her perfect face, olive skin dimpled behind the corners of her mouth, red lips full and luscious, brown hair framing the beauty in her expression, brown eyes peering out and through me. I hope she never stops smiling.
    I smile back. Hers grows wider. It’s like a pair of children, giddy, grinning at one another. This moment is unspoken and full between us. The pain recedes.
    Then in strikes.
    I feel my side sting and my expression, regrettably, sinking into a scowl, breaking the moment. She throws the blanket off and comes to my side, crouching beside the bed and wrapping a concerned hand around my arm. “Are you alright?” she asks.
    I look into her eyes, brown, full in front of me, pools of gold. I nod. I notice in my periphery that she’s taken her pants off. She wears a pair of cotton panties that expose her long, tan legs, smooth and glistening with the dim light of the room. God, she’s gorgeous. And apparently comfortable in my presence. Well, I did already see her naked. But this is different. This is personal. She lifts herself and places her butt on the edge of the couch, my hand falls instinctively onto her thigh, and the sensation of her smoothness floods me with guilt. I can’t be here. I’ll make things turn to shit in her life inside a day. People are after me. The police are probably after me now. The Devil’s Right Hands will tear Westwood Valley apart looking for me.
    “Auna,” I say, then cringe. My side stings a bit when I speak.
    “Yes?” Her smile makes a modest return as her hands rubs against my bicep. Her eyes brim with sympathy.
    My jaw drops, and I want to say I have to leave, but I can’t bring myself to do so. “I’m so sorry,” I tell her.
    She shakes her head, then brushes a bit of her loose hair behind her ear. “Don’t be,” she responds. “You needed me. You came to the club for me, didn’t you?”
    I fall into her eyes, entranced. I nod.
    “Good,” she says. “I knew, the other night, when you came in…” She doesn’t have to say it. We did both feel it then, instantly, in a stare, and then a kiss, and a touch. We feel it now, where my hand rubs against her thigh, where her fingers glide against my arm. It’s a feeling that’s muted everything else, but I can start to hear the rain again, cascading over her window, and the rest fills back in. My eyes wander over it all, her apartment. It’s a small space, I think I can see every room from here on the couch. It’s dark, too, intentionally so. The floor lamp has a thin, red scarf thrown over the top to diffuse the light. It casts a soft, warm color on everything. She’s got a television next to the door to her bedroom, straight in front of me. To my right, the window, to my left, the kitchen, and behind that in the hallway, the bathroom. The carpet is a dark brown, shaggy, and it makes the place feel like a