Protecting Salvation: A Shadow Elite Novel

The second she opened her eyes she knew she was in his arms, his scent washing over her and keeping the panic his words had caused at bay. They were still in the kitchen so she knew it had been a split second. “A brain tumour?”

Her eyes found his worried ones as he lifted her and carried her to the couch, sitting with her in his lap, and wrapping his big arms around her. His forehead pressed against her shoulder as he sucked in a deep breath. “Jesus, sugar, you scared the crap out of me. Don’t do that again.”

“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t the one who dropped a tumour bomb.”

She felt his body move as a chuckle went through him, and he lifted his head. “Oh, I’m sorry, little Miss I’m-a-farmer’s-daughter-I-can-take-it.”

“Well, yeah, but that was when I thought you had something embarrassing like an ingrown toenail or butt acne.”

“You think I might have butt acne? Is that a thing? Because I can assure you, my butt is fine. In fact, it’s so fine it should be on billboards and my feet are a work of art.”

Peyton snorted. “The butt I’ll accept because all the evidence does suggest that you have a very nice butt, but no man’s feet are a work of art.”

“You been checking out my butt, sugar?”

Peyton didn’t even try and deny it, rolling her eyes instead. “Don’t be modest. You own a mirror. You know what you look like.”

“I think you’re trying to make me blush.”

Peyton lifted her hand and stroked his face, a knot forming in her throat as his words hit her again. “A brain tumour?” Her eyes stung and she looked at the ceiling to try and stop the tears as she swallowed.

His hand was gentle as he used two fingers to tilt her chin down so he could look at her. “Don’t cry, Pey.”

“I can’t help it. Do you have a diagnosis?”

He nodded and leaned into the couch with a sigh, and she followed, snuggling her body into his lap and trying to ignore the hard length under her butt cheek.

“Yes. It’s called a Craniopharyngioma. It causes headaches, low blood pressure, and eventually can lead to blindness, but at the moment I only get bouts of blurred vision.”

Her hand traced a pattern on his t-shirt as he spoke and he lifted his hand to cover hers and held on. “Can they operate?”

He blew out a breath and it ruffled the ends of her hair. “It’s complicated. Yes, technically, it’s operable, but it would involve a craniotomy. Which is risky in my case.”

“Yes, but surely the benefits outweigh the risks?”

“Maybe, but it’s not quite as simple as that.”

He paused and she waited for him to gather his thoughts, hoping that just by listening and being here she could be of some help.

“I have a very rare blood group, so rare that they call it golden blood. It makes everything trickier because if I bleed, I could literally bleed to death.”

Peyton held on tighter, wishing that was all it took to fix this very complex issue for him. “Because of my job I don’t exist on any databases, so finding a donor is nigh on impossible.”

She had so many questions whirring around in her brain, but she supposed the simplest was, “How rare?”

“Only fifty in the world, maybe less now. I don’t keep up with the numbers. It’s called golden blood because anyone can receive blood from me no matter their type so it was said to be worth its weight in gold. Basically what golden blood means is that it’s Rh null and lacks all sixty-one proteins found in most cases. Which means if I need blood, I can only get it from someone else who is Rh null as well.”

Peyton was far from stupid so she understood the basics of what he was saying but all the different blood types could be confusing. What this meant was in any given situation where there was a chance of him getting hurt, his chances of dying increased exponentially over other people. Her heart pounded at how many times he’d risked his life for others and it again proved to her just what a good man he was.

“I see, that does make things tricky. Have you spoken to Dr Decker?”

“That’s where I was just before Bein called. She wanted to do a few tests to see if she could help, but honestly, I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’ve been living with this thing in my head for a year trying to figure a way out and I can’t.”

God, this man. “Does anyone else know?”

“They know now. I told them a few weeks back after I passed out and frightened the shit out of them.”

“So you’ve been dealing with all this alone?”

Warren nodded and her heart broke for him. How must it be to feel so alone when surrounded by so many people who loved you. She got it because she had days where she felt the same way. “Did anyone know the risks you were taking when you went on missions?”

“Jack and Bás knew about the golden blood but not the brain tumour.”

Her instinct was to feel angry that those two men, whom she respected, would let Warren risk his life in that way for people who’d never thank him or even know his sacrifice. She knew it wasn’t that simple though. Warren clearly made his own decisions, but that didn’t make her any happier about it. She wanted to ask him but she knew she’d probably poked her nose into his life enough already for one day. She did have one burning question though. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Is that why you pretty much cut contact with me last year? I thought we were friends or working towards something.” They’d never even kissed but she’d felt a rapport and thought he had too or was that her over-active imagination wishing for something she couldn’t have?

Warren rested his arm around her back, his hand on her outer hip, but eased his upper body back so he could look at her. “Honestly?”

“No, lie to me. Yes, of course, honestly.” Her lips tipped into a smile and his eyes lit up, a wide smile easing the tension of such a heavy subject.

“Sugar, you sure do have some sass for a woman who can’t walk properly.”

“Hey, I had heels on. I challenge you to walk up that hill in three-inch stilettos.”

He raised his brows and wobbled his shoulders. “I’ll have you know I look great in heels.”

Peyton laughed, loving seeing this playful side of the big man with not only the blood of gold but a heart too.

“I don’t doubt you can rock a pair. I asked if you could walk in them. Anyone can look pretty in them, walking is an entirely different sport.”

He laughed poking her belly. “You gonna let me answer your question, sugar?”

“Sure.”

“I cut contact because I like you, I like you a lot, and I can’t offer you any kind of future. And that might be presumptuous of me because I have no idea if you felt the same, but I didn’t want to take the risk of you getting attached and I ended up hurting you. You’re too amazing for that.”

“Isn’t that my decision to make?”

“Maybe but it would still be something else I couldn’t live with or control and I didn’t want that.”

Put like that it was hard to argue. Yes, it was her choice if she wanted to be with him regardless of the risks, but she understood not wanting to see someone you cared about hurt and knowing you caused it.

“I get it, I do. I don’t like it but I understand. We could have been friends though.”

“Sugar, I’m not sure if you’re aware but you currently have your ass on my boner and I’m about one wrong decision from tossing you on your back and finding out if your lips are as sweet as they look.”

Peyton felt her eyes widen. “Oh, so we’re talking about that, then.”

She couldn’t resist wriggling just a little to see his reaction. He didn’t disappoint, throwing his head to the back of the couch and groaning as his fingers tightened on her hip. She could feel heat building between her legs, her pussy aching for him to fill her.

“Peyton.” His growl sent a shiver through her and he held her lower body still and she squirmed.

“One wrong decision, you say?”

“You need to get up.”

He tapped her hip and she wanted to deny his request and stay where she felt safe and protected and desired but that wasn’t fair to a man who was trying to do the right thing. Standing, she moved back to the kitchen, watching as he discreetly adjusted his cock in his pants and it wasn’t a small bulge he was packing. That man had the fucking goods and her mouth watered as she stared.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

His deep brown eyes were on her heavy and slumberous like a waking beast and her breath hitched in her chest. “Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

“I do.”

Warren jumped to his feet. “Christ.”

He moved toward the door and panic hit her. He was leaving and she didn’t want him to leave. “No, please don’t go.”

He stilled, his back was to her but he turned his head, the soft look in his eyes full of tenderness. “Sugar, I ain’t going anywhere until I know you’re safe, but I need some air so I can cool off and I should give Titan a call and get an update.”

Relief was sharp puncturing her panic like a balloon. “Okay.”

She watched him step into her garden and let out a shuddery breath. That conversation held so much it might take her a week to unpack it all, but the most important was his health. Her heart ached for him, but no matter what, she knew she’d be there for the man who’d helped her and be whatever he needed her to be. Even if she did want more because you didn’t always get what you wanted in life and that was a lesson she’d learned early.