Chapter Text
He’d never seen Elizabeth like this before - normally her sharp, blue eyes drank in every little detail. Always questioning. Always curious. It was always fuckin’ annoying. But now said eyes are glazed over, seeing but not seeing. Her mouth quirks into a contented, stupid smile.
“I really see why our customers love these pills so much,” she practically sings, running her small fingers through her hair as if it’s the softest cashmere. And shit, Rio knows it is pretty damn soft… He shakes his head. One of them needs to focus.
He pries her hands away from her hair, settling them into her lap. She gazes up at him from her spot on the bathroom counter, pupils blown.
“Hold still,” he grumbles, attempting to swipe at the gash on her forehead with antiseptic.
A new client, the asshole, had seen Elizabeth pull up in front of his house. Guy’d been spooked. Wasn’t expecting some suburban lookin’ goddess to be the one dropping the pills off. Had thought she was a cop or a fed or somethin’, so he busted out his front door and pistol whipped her right there on the street.
Luckily her sister had been waiting for her a few cars down, saw the whole thing go down. Had rushed the guy with one of those stupid fake guns they still carried around.
Rio bristles - he’d have to correct that ASAP - the little one had managed to scare the guy off with the plastic piece, dragging her sister to safety and speeding off.
Apparently Elizabeth had no intention of fillin’ him in on any of this. He’d even called her to ask if the drop had gone smoothly, and she’d affirmed, yes, in that too-high voice of hers she adapted when she was lyin’ through her teeth.
So when Rio appeared in her kitchen, saw Elizabeth nursin’ a bourbon at her counter, her other hand clutching a frozen bag of peas against her forehead, a few tears leakin’ from her eyes - to say he was pissed was an understatement.
Yeah. He’d deal with that prick later. Wouldn’t be his first time burstin’ into a trap house and shootin’ some kneecaps for her. Probably wouldn’t be the last neither.
But now she’s high off her pretty ass, due to the painkiller he’d insisted she take, lookin’ at his neck tat as if she’s never seen it before. She yelps a bit as he swipes across her forehead.
“That stings,” she pouts.
“I know, mami. Almost done.”
She’s lucky she doesn’t have a concussion. Just a nasty cut that hopefully won’t scar too bad.
When the cut is cleaned, Rio tosses the antiseptic wipe in the trash, unpeeling a Unicorn band-aid he’d found in her drawer.
As he hovers over her to apply it to the injury, her fingers trail up his shirt, tracing around the wing of his tattoo. He freezes, glaring down at her.
“You’re fun to touch,” she whispers.
Rio has to close his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Fuck.
“Stop that,” he murmurs sternly, but doesn’t quite mean it.
“I miss touching you,” she carries on, scooting her butt closer to him.
Her eyes are still cloudy, still unfocused, but the lust is plain as day.
“Yeah?” he asks, sticking the band-aid on her skin, but not making a move to step away. “You’re trippin’, ma.”
Her unoccupied hand fiddles shyly with the buttons on his shirt.
“Will you stay?” she breathes.
He still has to deal with that prick client. Has to renegotiate terms, has to check on a warehouse, has to inspect a couple cars. He has a dozen things to do. But….
“Yeah.”