Page 47 of Ethan
Maybe joking about Griffin wasn’t the smartest move.
I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting back a laugh. The more he showed me this soft, ridiculous side, the more I wanted to teasehim, or do something reckless, like grab him by the collar and kiss him until he stopped making that face.
But giving in to every pout would be a mistake. Instead, I caught his hand and tugged him forward.
“Come on,” I said, picking up the pace.
The forest thickened around us, trees pressing closer together. I caught sight of a gnarled oak with a trunk twisted into the shape of an old man’s face, one I recognized from past patrols.
Sector Twelve. We still had a good stretch to go before reaching the site.
Dean broke the silence a few minutes later. “Still can’t believe you’re handling the entire clinic by yourself.”
I shook my head. “Not really. Devon usually runs things. I just help out.”
“Sure,” he said. “But these past few weeks? It’s been all you.”
I shrugged, though the words hit a little closer than I liked. “Honestly, most of the time there aren’t that many major injuries. Nothing I can’t handle.”
I shot him a pointed look. “Well, except for the sudden uptick in minor injuries lately.”
Dean only grinned, not looking the least bit guilty about the “excuses” that had brought him into the clinic before.
“The truth is,” I said, “the clinic works closely with the enforcers. Their training focuses on posture, technique, balance. The better they move, the fewer injuries we see. Cuts and bruises? They usually take care of themselves. It’s the major injuries we step in for.”
Dean tilted his head. “So it’s more like keeping them sharp so they don’t get hurt in the first place?”
“Exactly.”
Dean looked impressed, which made my chest puff up more than I’d like to admit.
So I added, with a smirk, “Which means when Griffin tells you to square your shoulders or put more weight on your back leg, you do it. Got it?”
Dean raised his hand in mock surrender. “I promise.”
“Good.”
We walked in companionable silence for a while, though I found myself glancing up at the canopy. The sunlight barely made it through, and the sky above looked heavy and gray.
Dean must’ve noticed the same thing, because he murmured, “We should pick up the pace. Storm’s coming.”
I nodded, lengthening my stride. The trail narrowed, forcing us to move single file.
Before long, both of us were panting, sweat dampening the backs of our shirts as the forest swallowed us in its dim, humid air.
Dean shook his head, still a little breathless. “I just can’t imagine how busy you must be. At least I got half a day off today, after everything last night.”
I cut him a sideways look. “Aren’t you working right now?”
He grinned, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Doesn’t count. I volunteered for this. I had the option. You didn’t. You were up at dawn, after spending half the nightlooking after those kids. And now here you are, trekking through the woods with me, no break in sight.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Part of the job.”
Except the truth was, I couldn’t wait until Devon came back. I’d thought he’d have returned by now, or at least checked in more.
It wasn’t like him to stay away this long without saying anything or letting me know what he thought of my work.
Most days I felt like I was just guessing. Was I doing too much? Not enough?
