Page 59 of Things We Burn

My heart dropped out of my chest, right there onto the dirt.

I ripped my eyes from Kane’s to look for someone to help so I wouldn’t watch him die there, in front of thousands of people.

Like I’d conjured them, the paramedics made their way to us.

“Give us some space, please,” one of them said.

Though it felt wrong at the very core of me, I let go of Kane’s hand and stood up to let them do their work.

Brax was somehow beside me.

He touched my shoulder in a way that maybe was supposed to be reassuring, but it felt controlling, his hold was too firm, bordering on painful.

Kane’s eyes were on us, on me, which was likely why Brax made the gesture, to keep up appearances.

I didn’t flinch out of his grip as I so wanted to; I didn’t want to give Kane a reason to worry about me.

“Her knees,” Kane gritted out as they lifted him onto a gurney.

I frowned at him. His helmet was intact, but maybe he was concussed.

“Her fuckin’ knees,” he repeated, pointing to me. He waved his hands at the paramedics, shrugging them off. “I don’t want anyone fucking touching me until they look at my woman’s knees.”

When all eyes turned to me, I looked down. My jeans, my magical jeans had ripped, and sure enough, there was blood dribbling down my legs from two grazes I’d obviously sustained when I’d skidded against the rocky surface.

They stung faintly.

“You can’t be serious,” I huffed, taking the chance to pull myself from Brax’s side to walk toward Kane. “You just crashed from fifty feet in the air. I just did what most third-graders do on a daily basis.”

“You’re bleeding,” Kane argued, his voice steel. “Take care of her first,” he ordered the paramedics.

They didn’t look happy about it, but it seemed they also couldn’t resist the authority in Kane’s tone because they made a move toward me.

“Do not even think about it.” I held up my hand. “Toss some Band-Aids my way while we’re in the ambulance, and you’re taking care of him.” My voice had its own authority. I might not have had muscles nor been a man, but I’d controlled kitchens for years.

“I’m not letting anyone do shit to me while my woman is bleeding.” Kane was obviously not letting it go. His eyes twinkled as they focused on me, but I could see the pain ringing in them. “I’m a stubborn son of a bitch, Chef, and I haven’t lost a battle of the wills yet.”

I squared my shoulders. “Well, you’ve never engaged in one with me.”

Then, with effort, I tore my eyes from him to focus on the paramedics who were watching us both. "I understand he is a brute, a famous brute and can be somewhat convincing in a hardheaded kind of way, but he’s also just sustained a serious injury. And I’ll tell you right now, if you eventhinkabout tending to me before him, I’ll make sure to sue you for negligence.” I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t do that, and I did feel vaguely guilty for threatening people who saved lives on a daily basis, but panic was crawling up my throat, and I had no other option.

“Tranquilize him if you need to,” I added when I saw Kane’s lips part to argue. “I’ll do it myself if I have to.” My voice was cold, calm and utterly unyielding. I focused my gaze back on Kane, prepared for a fight, knowing I was going to win.

Kane’s face was still hard, mostly from pain at that point. At least that’s what I was guessing because his eyes had turned soft. Tender.

“Fuck, I love you,” he said.

I blinked.

He just said he loved me.

After crashing a motorcycle from a dizzying height.

While on a gurney.

With a crowd full of people watching.

Granted, they likely couldn’t hear him, but the paramedics could.

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