Page 164 of Silver Elite

And then the tears start falling.

Without a word, Kaine wraps his arms around me, pulling me close as I collapse against him, my body racked with silent sobs.

“She wouldn’t tap out. I stabbed her and accidentally hit an artery.” My voice is hoarse. I can’t stop shaking.

He holds me tighter, one hand stroking my hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I…I didn’t mean to…I was just trying to stop her.”

“It’s okay,” he repeats. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”

His words offer little solace. The weight of my actions presses down on my chest until I can no longer breathe, gasping for air, andthe guilt, the shame, only burns hotter when a door opens and a man steps out. It’s Bryce’s father.

God. Herfather.

Fear flickers through me when our gazes lock. My hands are stained with his daughter’s blood. I know he can see it.

To my utter disbelief, he doesn’t condemn me with his eyes or his words. He simply nods as if to sayGood workand then marches down the hall, right past the room where his daughter’s bloody, motionless body lies.

I let out an unsteady exhalation, sagging against Kaine again. I feel hollow. Broken.

“You’re okay.” His fingers thread through my hair, soft and reassuring. “I promise.”

“Sutler. Darlington.”

Cross’s sharp voice echoes in the hallway.

Kaine and I break apart. My legs feel weak as I turn to find Cross in the center of the corridor. Face expressionless, he gives me a once-over. He focuses on the blood, then glances at Kaine.

“You’re dismissed, Sutler. Report to your new quarters.”

Kaine seems reluctant to go, but when I give him a slight nod, he walks away, leaving me alone with Cross. My heartbeat is not at all steady.

When Cross speaks again, it’s brusque, impassive. “You had no choice. She was going to kill you.”

“Fuck you.”

“She wouldn’t have tapped out.”

“Fuck you,” I repeat, and swallow hard. Another onslaught of tears threatens, but I refuse to cry in front of him. “May I be dismissed?”

“Report to Medical first. Get that stitched up.” He nods at my arm.

“It’s already stopped bleeding,” I mutter.

“Get it looked at,” he says in a tone that invites no argument. “Take her to Medical.”

I realize he’s addressing someone behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see Tyler Struck approaching.

Despite my protests, she escorts me to the Medical building. Outside the door, she stops and touches my arm, her eyes flickering with sympathy. “She was a staple, Darlington. She wasn’t going to tap.”

“I know that,” I say flatly. “But that doesn’t make it any better. Did anyone else die today?”

She shakes her head. “Everyone tapped.”

“Oh great. So I’m the only murderer in the bunch.”

I stalk past her into the Med ward, where one of the nurses cleans up the wounds on my arm and neck, rubs a regen ointment over them, and sends me on my way without so much as a bandage.

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