Page 15 of Burn Like An Angel

“You tried to drown her alive, Nox.”

The guilt building inside me explodes, spewing in all directions like an erupting volcano. “I’m aware.”

“Then she used Noah to try to frame you.” He shakes his head. “But what I can’t figure out is why you’re both lying here, and she didn’t just leave you to rot or vice versa.”

Now leaning against the wall, Langley is tuned in to Xander’s interrogation. Raine’s golden-haired head is cocked, demonstrating his attention, latching onto every hitched breath and note of hesitation.

My scalp prickles, a hot flush of awkwardness washing over me. I’m not telling them shit. Not about this.

“That was… before.”

“Before what exactly?” Raine questions.

“Before everything.”

“Everything?” Xander repeats drily.

The truth swirls through my mind. I can’t explain. Not when I’ve barely wrapped my head around the whispered apologies we shared, the feel of her skin on mine, her soft lips and velvet tongue or bare breasts pressing into my chest…

“Nox!” Raine grips my arm, demanding an answer I can’t give. “Well?”

“Raine,” Xander cautions, reading something on my face.

“I have a right to know, Xan. She’s my… She’s… We… Fuck!” He pauses to blow out a frustrated breath. “Look, how can I help her if I don’t know what happened?”

“You can’t help,” I snap back. “Not with this.”

“I care about her. Far more than you do!”

Self-loathing quickly morphs into molten anger—the noxious fumes poisoning my thoughts. How dare he presume to knowwhat I’m thinking or feeling? He doesn’t know shit about what we just survived.

“And?” I scoff.

“And whatever game you’re playing, stop. You can’t keep me from being with Ripley.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” I quickly deny. “Well… anymore.”

“Then what is this?” he challenges fiercely. “You despise her. What’s changed?”

The pressure inside me boils over, a foaming, caged beast snapping through my veins as it breaks free.

“Everything!”

My voice carries, seeming to ricochet in the medical wing’s gloom. Glaring at Raine like he can see the warning on my face, I breathe heavily, a tight ball of tension burgeoning in my chest.

“Take your hand off me.”

Raine gapes at me, the borrowed aviators sliding down his nose. I watch his shock filter into defiance—mouth creasing, fists balling, his shoulders squared like I’m challenging his claim or some dumb shit.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he warns in a low tone. “Hurt her again and I’ll kick your ass, blind or not.”

Adjusting his sunglasses, Raine moves over to Ripley’s bed. I watch him run his hands over the thin mattress, feeling for a spot to perch next to her. His hand moves to rest on top of her lifeless one.

My stomach clenches.

Get your fucking hands off her.

I swallow the words begging to spill out, imprisoning them instead in an imaginary steel box. Of course, he gets the right to touch her. I sure as hell don’t. Not after all I’ve done.

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