Page 53 of His to Burn
Should have snarled something about space, about focus, about how I didn’t need a liability trying to soothe me.
Instead I stood there, her palm a fragile heat through layers of blood and sweat-soakedfabric. My heart thundered under her hand, violent and alive.
Then I stepped back.
Shoved past her with a terse, “Let’s go,” thrown over my shoulder.
She followed.
I expected her to.
Where else would she go?
But knowing that didn’t change the warmth that wormed under my ribs.
Didn’t make me hate it any less.
We moved through another two blocks in silence, scanning rooftops and doorways on alert for the next threat.
A three-legged cat limped out of an alley, so thin, it had to have been starving before this all started.
I wondered if we’d end up like that.
Hollowed out.
Barely surviving.
No.
Not we.
Me.
Asia wouldn’t last that long.
The thought was ugly.
True.
And a knife to the fucking heart.
At the next intersection, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I reacted in an instant, ready to attack.
Asia squeaked. My hand wrapped around her upper arm before I even registered her shape.
“Jesus, Counselor,” I hissed, pushing her behind me, blocking anything that might come. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”
“I wasn’t—” She cut off. Swallowed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be careful.”
My grip on her arm tightened. I didn’t mean to hold her so tightly.
Didn’t let go, either.
We kept going. One block after another. My mind ticked through everything that could go wrong.
More people.
