Page 121 of Promises in the Dark

The shout was barely audible over the screams and shouts of the wounded, but I recognized it instantly.

It was him.

Red spun around, and the second she laid eyes on him, everything changed. Her face drained of color, her body went rigid.

“H—Harper…”

He staggered through the doorway, looking like a goddamn ghost, barely able to croak out her name before collapsing in a pathetic heap on the ground.

He wasn’t so fucing smug now, was he? Gone was the cocky prick who probably thought the sun shined out of his ass. Now he just looked weak, beaten, and begging for scraps of mercy.

Blood soaked his shirt, and his face was pale as death, like he’d been chewed up and spit out by hell itself. Couldn’t say I felt bad about it.

Red’s hands froze mid-motion, her face draining of color as she realized what had happened.

“Dylan!”

I swear to all that’s unholy, I saw her face change. Fucking Murphy’s Law, of course he’d be here, ruining everything.

Pyro kept dragging bodies, muttering curses, but my eyes were glued to Red. I watched her rush to his side, hands shaking like crazy, trying to save a man who deserved to rot. The son of a bitch didn’t deserve her care, not after what he put her through.

But there she was, giving it anyway.

This was her job, her duty. Still, it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

Her face was a mess of blood and tears, hands moving like she was trying to save her own life. I could see the raw determination in her eyes, the kind that could make a man feel like he was worth something.

It pissed me off and broke my heart all at once.

Fuck, it was hard to focus. I kept stealing glances, watching her fight for him. Pyro grumbled beside me, his voice cutting through the fog in my head. “Fucking unbelievable,” he muttered, yanking another stretcher into place. “Get your head outta your ass, Rogue.”

But I couldn’t. Not entirely. Not while Red was down there, practically tearing herself apart for a guy who’d probably never done a damn thing to deserve her.

She leaned in close to him, practically putting her ear to his lips. He reached up, his bloody hand shaking as he touched her face. He whispered something I couldn’t hear, but I saw the look in her eyes. And then his hand fell away. He closed his eyes, just like that, the son of a bitch was gone.

Red screamed.

It was the kind of scream that chilled you to the bone, made you want to rip your own ears off just to make it stop. But there was no stopping it.

“Shit,” I muttered, gripping the soldier I was dragging even harder.

The poor bastard groaned, but I barely heard him. I was too focused on Red, watching her crumble next to that lifeless bastard, clutching his dead body like she could somehow bring him back.

“No, no, no, no!” she kept sobbing, but it was too late.

Each compression she gave got more frantic than the last, each ‘no’ more shattered.

Her hands were pounding on his chest, trying to jumpstart a heart that had already checked out and I had to force myself to look away.

Pyro stopped, his head snapping toward her. “Christ,” he muttered, but he didn’t move. Neither did I.

Because for the first time in a long damn while, I didn’t know what the fuck to do.

Then we dropped another soldier onto a table, the guy’s blood smeared across my uniform, and I tried to keep my mind on the job, but fuck, I couldn’t take it anymore. Her screams, her struggle—it was too much.

I marched over to her, grabbing her shoulders hard enough to bruise. “Red, stop!” I yelled, yanking her away from his corpse.

She struggled against me, her hands reaching out towards the corpse, but I held her tight, forcing her to face the harsh reality.

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