At some point, Hannah felt herself being carried into the bath. She sank into the warm water and rested her head on the lip of the tub, then let sleep take her.
Minutes later, Bryson took her out of the bath, dried her carefully, then carried her to bed. He slipped her under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, just staring at her. After a while, he reached out to trace her features with his fingers.
Hannah’s brows furrowed, then she rolled over, still fast asleep.
Bryson stood up. After putting his shirt on, he walked to the door and left the room.
The living room was dark, but he made no move to turn on the lights.
He made his way to the couch and plopped down.
Click!
He flicked his lighter open, and the glow of the flame broke through the darkness.
Bryson took a drag of his cigarette and leaned back, his eyes cold.
“Come out!”
For one brief moment, there was only silence. Bryson continued smoking and waited patiently.
“Your senses are indeed sharp. Bravo!”
Maloney stepped out of a hidden corner near the kitchen. He used the dim moonlight filtering through the window to meander around and sit on the chair across from the couch.
It was five in the morning. The men sat in silence, staring at each other, though neither could see the other’s expression.
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Bryson spoke first. “Now that you’ve recovered, hurry and get out of my face!”
Maloney smiled. “This is my fiancee’s house. Why can’t I stay? You, Mister, are the one who should get out of here.”
“Do you think you deserve her?”
Maloney’s eyes flashed with danger. “They still haven’t caught the shooter who stormed into the Compton family manor. It’s you, isn’t it?”
He pulled out his phone and unlocked his screen. “All I need to do is make one phone call, and you’ll never be able to escape.”
Click.
It was the sound of the safety lock being released.
Bryson pointed his gun at Maloney, matching the latter’s smile.
“Let’s see whose fingers are faster, yours on your phone or mine on my gun.”
“Hal You are surely well-prepared.” Maloney sneered, totally unfazed.