"And who do you want, Cherry?"
Gilbert's low voice made her look up. He was still close enough for her to catch his familiar scent, and the feeling it stirred only added to her confusion.
She tightened her hands around her wet clothes. Her skin was hot, her breathing uneven. She could not separate what she felt for him from whatever the liquid was doing to her.
"Please," she whispered. "Just get out."
His expression hardened.
"If you don't want me here, who do you want? Elijah Montenegro?"
Cherry stared at him. She had asked for space, but he seemed to hear something else.
"Have you forgotten that he's the reason you're in this mess?" Gilbert asked.
The accusation made her flinch. She had barely escaped the men outside, and now she was struggling to stay steady in front of someone she had once trusted. She did not have the strength to argue about Elijah.
"He has nothing to do with this, Mister Ace Carter."
Gilbert went still at the name.
