Driven by Susan Kaye Quinn Page B

knots. Part of me—the part clinging to the life raft—is still hoping she’ll change her mind. Want to come with me the next time.
    She lets out a breath, a slow leak through pursed lips, like she’s gently blowing out a candle. It makes me want to touch her, but I’m not that much of an idiot. Touching Ophelia is like flirting with death and hoping it won’t decide to get serious with you.
    “At some point,” I say, “I would really like to work up from Guppy status. Minnow at the least. I think I’ll start by not turning my back on you for a while.”
    A small smirk erases the kissable look of before, but then it’s replaced by a frown. She reaches for my face. I lean away, taking a half-step that bangs my legs into the bed.
    She pulls her hand back but the frown remains. “How bad did they hurt you, baby?”
    I’m tempted to tell her they crippled me for life and it’s all her fault. “I’m fine,” I say.
    She runs a look over my chest, then reaches for the bottom of my t-shirt.
    I grab her wrist. “But I’m not in the mood to play show and tell right now.” I flick her hand away, keeping skin contact only long enough to let her know I’m serious. 
    Her lips draw into a thin line. “I didn’t know… they wouldn’t tell me what they did to you. Even Valac refused to talk to me about it, just said you were still alive. I insisted they couldn’t send you out on collections, not yet. I told them I would do any collecting they needed while you rested.”
    “So you’re responsible for a week of me being locked in my room?” I’m desperate for a life energy hit, but a week of no collections also meant a week of no payouts. That probably did buy me time to recover.
    “I would have come to visit sooner, but they wouldn’t let me.” She takes a step closer again, and I allow it. Probably because I really am an idiot. She’s close enough to touch me, but she doesn’t, leaving a space of heated air between us. “Let me help you heal, baby.”
    She reaches for the bruise on my cheek, and this time I don’t flinch away. Her soft hands are slightly cool until the life energy trickles in and heats my skin. I feel the buzz immediately, and I lean into her hand before I even think about what I’m doing. It’s been so long, and the rush feels so good… the ache from the bruise starts to fade. I should cycle this life energy back to her, but then again, she owes me. I keep my hand at my side.
    With her free hand, she lifts the corner of my t-shirt to peer at the bruises underneath. This time, I let her. Maybe if she sees the full impact of her decision to betray me, she’ll be more willing to come with me next time.
    She sucks in a breath. “Lirium… I’m so sorry,” she whispers. The transfer to my cheek stops, and she lifts my shirt with both hands. I let her pull it over my head. She takes a deep breath, gaze roaming my chest. It does something to me, and only then do I realize that letting Ophelia take off my clothes is a serious mistake.
    I bend to reach for the t-shirt she’s dropped on the floor, but her hands on my chest stop me. I straighten, and she carefully lines up one of her small hands with one of my bruises and starts to transfer. The buzz ripples through me, right at my core, and I’m almost instantly high. She slides her other hand to find another bruise and floods it with life energy. She’s intent, gaze on my chest, soft breaths brushing against my skin. Her first hand shifts to a new bruise and transfers more. She’s reaching me deep inside, easing the aches and pains, bringing my whole body alert. She keeps moving, shifting, drawing her hands lightly across my chest as she seeks out my wounds.
    It’s insane how much I want to pull her down to the bed. Even though I’m still angry as hell. A fire heats my cheeks that has nothing to do with the life energy coursing through me. Am I really this easy to manipulate?
    I grab her wrists again, gently this time, and pull them