The Recluse (Texas Safehouse #4) Read Online Silvia Violet

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Texas Safehouse Series by Silvia Violet
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
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Did he think he was just going to come in and take over? “I told you I don’t need anything.” Talking sent me into a coughing fit that threatened to prove me wrong.

“Grant and Ghost have the flu, and they’re running high fevers too.”

“If it’s just the flu, I’ll be fine. Trust me. I’ve been way worse off than this.” So much worse, although I did feel like shit. Just sitting up had my head swimming.

“Just because you’ve survived worse, doesn’t mean you have to be on your own now. There was nothing better whenever I was sick than my nonna cooking for me and checking on me. I can’t cook like her, but I still know how to take care of someone.”

I was determined to get up and prove to him that I could handle things without his help. As soon as I started to stand, Carlo dropped what he was doing and raced toward me. “Lie back down before you fall. I’m trying to heat up some soup.”

I wanted to argue with him, but I really didn’t have the strength to stay on my feet. How the hell had I gotten so sick when I didn’t even leave my cabin that often?

When I was lying down again, Carlo started untangling the blankets I’d been using. As he covered me up again, he paused to admire my granny square blanket. “Where did you get this one? It’s beautiful. It looks like one my nonna made.”

“I made it.” My voice was barely there. I hated sounding so weak, but my throat hurt like hell, and I couldn’t talk any louder.

Carlo looked shocked. “You did?”

“Handwork is good for the mind.” I tapped the side of my head and tried to smile. I’d taken up crochet a year or two into my first tour. Another guy in my platoon said it was the best thing he’d ever done to calm his nerves.

“It’s very meditative, right?” Carlo asked.

“Yeah, it is. I taught Rogue too.”

His eyes lit up. “You could teach me, then we could have a knitting circle.”

“Crochet.”

“Well, a crochet circle, then.”

Another fit of coughing struck me. I didn’t think it would ever stop. When it finally subsided, I croaked out. “We can’t.”

Carlo looked so sad I wanted to take the words back. He cleared his throat. “I know you don’t really want me around, and I get it, but—”

“No. I mean, we can’t because I was wrong. I am dying.” How long was this goddamn sickness going to last?

He huffed. “You are not dying.”

I hadn’t had the flu since I was a kid. Was it really this bad? “You can’t be sure.”

“I could be if you’d go to the urgent care and get a flu test.”

Not going to happen. “No doctors. I’ve had enough of that.”

“All right, then. You’re going to have to except that if Grant and Ghost have the flu, then you likely have the same thing.”

How had I gotten it from them? “I haven’t even been around them recently.”

Carlo seemed to consider that. “Maybe not, but all three of you have spent a lot of time around Rogue.”

“Is Rogue sick?”

Carlo shook his head. “He told me he never gets sick, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a carrier.”

“Bastard.”

Carlo laughed. “Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?”

I snarled at him. “Go away.”

“I’ll go back to the kitchen, but I’m staying here to make sure you’re all right.”

“You said I’m not dying.”

“You’re not going to die from the flu as long as I keep track of your fever and make sure things aren’t getting worse.”

“I’m fine.” I tried to flex my arm. “Strong.”

Carlo grinned. “You’re definitely strong as hell, but you’ve also been through a lot in the last few years.”

My breath caught, and I fought not to cough again. “Don’t talk about that.”

Carlo held up his hands. “I won’t. I’m just saying that under stress, your immune system might not be at its best.”

“You’re not a fucking doctor.”

“No, but my nonna taught me a lot. Not all of it would be approved by doctors, but she knew her stuff. Everyone in her village came to her for advice. Few of them trusted the doctors.”

“What year did you grow up in? 1465?”

He laughed. “No, but the village she lived in might as well have been in another world.”

He made me want to know so much more about him and his nonna. “Will you tell me about it?”

“I thought you wanted me to leave.”

I scoffed, but that set off another long coughing fit.

Carlo rubbed my back, and I was surprised by how much his touch calmed me. The cough ended, and I drew in a few shaky breaths.

“You’re too damn stubborn to leave and too used to getting your own way.”

“I wouldn’t admit that even if it was true. Do you really want to know about my childhood?”



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