Page 121 of Scars Run Deep

17

~Jonah~

He’d benched her.

And she hadn’t taken well to it.

We hadn’t seen her since she’d stormed from the kitchen a couple of hours ago.

She’d even missed dinner.

And she hadn’t even answered her bedroom door to Kill when he’d tried to bring it up to her, so she’d at least eat.

He was out riding now, trying to chill the fuck out, because her being upset really got to him and churned him up inside. It did to us all at this point, she’d become such an intrinsic part of us. But Kill was particularly sensitive to it.

For once, though, he was on Asher’s side about pulling her from the upcoming mission. Because he was more worried than anybody about her getting swallowed whole by the dark.

Well, that was what I’d thought for the longest time, until I’d watched Asher lose his temper over it today.

He hid it so fucking well, but I could see beneath the surface. I knew him.

He was scared.

He was scared Aurora was becoming like him.

All the way.

Yeah, he’d wanted her to meet him on his level, but he’d meant sexually, and in understanding where he was coming from, something very few people could actually do.

He hadn’t wanted her to actually become him through and through.

And with him working closely with her while they’d been teamed up together on the takedowns, he’d seen it front and center just how close she was coming to it, something he hadn’t realized the extent of before—or hadn’t allowed himself to recognize with everything else that had been going on that he’d had to be on top of.

Jesus, shit was threatening to spin out of control.

Poor Asher was doing everything he possibly could to contain it, to march us on through this war we were in the thick of now. It was a lot of fucking pressure.

At least he’d headed to his art studio after dinner. It was a good sign, because it functioned as his therapy and helped not only his anxiety, but also served to clear his head so he could remain focused and bring it like he needed to as leader.

Still, even knowing that, it wasn’t enough to stop me from checking on him before I crashed for the night.

It was why I was now standing outside his locked room and firing off a text.

Probably should’ve done the text part before I’d shoved my covers aside and burst out of bed a few moments ago when I hadn’t been able to take it anymore, not knowing if he was okay.

Jonah: Gotta run something by you before I turn in.

That wasn’t true, but telling him I wanted to come in and check on him likely wouldn’t fly. He didn’t like that shit.

I waited patiently as it took a few moments for him to respond. Not unusual when he was painting, with him needing to pull from that headspace, then wipe his hands off too.

Asher: Good timing.

I stilled. What?

Jonah: It is? For what?

Instead of answering, he merely texted:

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