Page 188 of Their Arrangement
She still didn’t look up. Her whole body was trembling. Not from cold. From fear. The kind you don’t come back from. I touched her arm. Light. Careful. Like she might shatter if Imoved too fast.
She flinched.
Hard.
Pulled away.
LikeIwas him.
Likeshecouldn’t tell the difference.
I froze.
Fuck. Fuck.
I’d seen this before. On the battlefield. In black sites. In places where screams were currency.
Butneverlike this.
Neverher.
She smelled like blood and sweat and something worse—fear. The kind that seeps into your bones and stays there.
“Cloe,” I whispered.It’s“ me.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t lift her head. Didn’t speak. But she started to cry. No sobs. No sound. Just tears. Streaming down her bruised face like they’d been waiting for someone safe enough to fall for.
Then—finally—she looked up. And I broke. Her lip was bleeding. Her eye already swelling. There were scratches on her collarbone. The side of her blouse was torn.
“Wolfe?”
Her voice cracked. So did something inside me.
“Yeah.” I moved closer. “It’s me. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
She winced. Her arm shifted. She tried to sit up but gasped—ribs.
I caught her before she could fall forward. Held her. Her breath was short and uneven, her hands clutching the chain still around her neck like it was the only thing tethering her to this world.
“What happened?” I asked, barely managing to keep my voice steady.
She shook her head.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “He was there and then—gone. I think I… I passed out.”
A lie.
I knew it.
But I didn’t press. She was shaking too hard.
“Okay,” I said. “Okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
I slid one arm under her knees. The other around her back. Lifted her carefully—like she was made of glass. Like every breath might be the last one she trusted me with. She gasped again. A small cry escaped before she could bite it down. Her fingers clutched my jacket.
“Where are we going?”
I didn’t look at her.
