Page 51 of Burn Like An Angel

Uncertain, I lick my lips. “Sometimes.”

“Well, people care about you. And Raine… I don’t want to come between you two. He deserves happiness.”

I don’t dare speak, unnerved by this new, thoughtful Xander.

“And whether he’s ready to admit it or not, Lennox wants something from you too,” Xander muses tiredly. “You’ve managed to ensnare my entire family.”

“Should I be apologising for that?” I ask honestly.

His spearmint-scented breath licks my skin. “No. I think it will take all of us to escape what Incendia has planned next.”

“They won’t go down without a fight.” Trepidation crawls through me at the mere thought. “The gates will be blasted open soon enough.”

“I agree. When that time comes, we’ll need each other.”

He falls silent, seemingly lost in thought. Harsh reality is crashing into our post-sex bubble. Violence and threats still surround us on all sides as an invisible clock ticks down to the unknown.

“Perhaps we’re meant to be a fucked up family.” Xander trails his hand up and down my back. “Maybe that’s how we live.”

“Together?”

“Exactly,” he responds, tracing small circles with his fingertips. “Together.”

My heart balloons to absolute breaking point. I want to tell it to brush his exhausted comment off, but that damned, sticky hope can never release its clutches on me. No matter how hard I try.

Family.

Could he possibly mean that?

I’m not sure I even deserve one.

CHAPTER 8

RAINE

SAID & DONE – BAD OMENS

My entire bodyis wracked with violent shaking as damp claws sink into me. I’m overwhelmed with sounds, tastes and smells. None of them good. It’s making it hard to focus on breathing through the nausea.

Mildew.

Old chlorine.

Floodwater.

Rotten wood.

Each individual scent helps me paint a picture of the place Ripley once brought me to. Only this time, the storm damage has worsened the swimming pool’s state of disuse.

“Nox,” I choke out.

“Coming. Shit, where are the pills?”

A scuffle betrays his frantic efforts to sort through our supplies. We weren’t able to grab much when we fled the medical wing. A horde of patients came searching for food, drugs or weapons. They weren’t exactly calm either.

Another burst of nausea causes pain to build behind my eyes. My stomach revolts, and it takes all my self-control to hold my meagre breakfast of stale cereal bars down. I can’t afford to waste the food we scrounged up.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lennox hisses, clearly in pain.

---