Page 40 of Promises in the Dark

I couldn’t give two shits about the two who met their maker. All that mattered was getting the hell out of here. So, I pushed through the swarm of desperate motherfuckers, dragging Red’s ass towards the exit.

This wasn’t a rescue mission. Hell no, it wasn’t anything so honorable. I didn’t have time to play hero, to go back for the others. Screw that. They were on their own.

This was an extraction.

As Red and I sprinted through the chaos of Jalalabad, the city unfolded before us in all its fucking glory, screaming with the sounds of war.

I forced myself to match Red’s slower run speed, my muscles straining against the urge to sprint ahead. It was annoying, having to accommodate her and remember the layout of the city at the same time. There was part of me that wanted to just keep running and not turn back. There was part of me that wanted tonot give two shits about what happened to Red or whether she could keep up or not. But damn her, I couldn’t help it.

I hated that I gave a damn.

I tried to recall that map I saw for a few fucking seconds, to remember the twists and turns, but time was a cruel bitch and we couldn’t afford to stop. The Talis were hot on our heels, and stopping meant certain death. We had to keep moving or end up like the poor bastards back there—bullet-riddled corpses.

“I need a minute,” Red gasped, stumbling against a wall, clutching her mouth like she was about to puke her guts out.

“We do not have a minute,” I snapped, annoyed at the delay. “We’re in the middle of a gunfight, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Well, I do have,” she mumbled, her face flushed with sweat.

And with that, she doubled over gagging, her body convulsing as she unleashed a torrent of vomit, her stomach emptying its entire contents onto the ground in front of her.

“Fuck,” I whispered, torn between irritation and… I don’t know, maybe some fucked-up concern.

I put a hand on her shoulder, holding her steady and keeping her from falling over as she bent over and retched again, vomiting out onto the pavement.

Her body crumpled against mine as she tried to recover, her head down and her hair falling back against his hands. The stench rose into my nostrils and made me grimace but I sucked it up.

I held back her hair—what a fucking gentleman, right?—keeping it out of the way while she emptied her stomach.

She was weak and trembling and I felt like a goddamn idiot for being a jerk about it.

“Breathe deep,” I said gently, even though I was pissed off. “It’ll pass.”

She let out a little sob and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, managing to choke out a few words through the bile and tears. As she caught her breath, I ran my hand down herback, trying to keep her upright. Slowly, she stopped shaking, her breathing leveling out.

“I’m alright,” she said, trying to stand up straight.

As she tried to do so, her legs wobbled, and she stumbled forward. I quickly caught her, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her against my chest.

She leaned into me, her body trembling, and I held her there for a moment, feeling her heart pounding against mine, her softness against my hardness.

“Can you walk?” I asked quietly, not wanting to sound like an asshole. But I was so damn done with her bullshit, and yet, here I was, still holding her together. Still making sure she didn’t get herself killed.

Why was I doing this to myself?

No fucking clue.

God, I was such a mess.

I let go of Red, giving her some space and she immediately straightened up and brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen on her face. She looked so damn perfect, with her red hair like a glimmering flame exposed for me to see, no longer covered up by the niqab she had lost on the alley we ate.

Her face glowed with a light sheen of sweat, each dip and swell accentuated in the glistening liquid. Her skin was so smooth and soft, and every curve was perfect, making me ache to trace my tongue along those smooth, velvety trails.

She looked… fuck, she looked perfect. And I wanted her. Bad.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice still shaky and weak.

“You sure?” I pressed, still doubting she could keep up.

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