Page 39 of The Dead Don't Talk
My mind flashes to the other recruits, the ones I don’t know. I’ve seen them around, right? With the rest of the public, even during a lock down for the impending storms. Right?
Cassia…
“No fucking way,” I spit out and resume my pacing. “She would have told me.”
The arch of Moros’s brow feels almost lethal when it wings on me. “You were a fucking mistake. Get your shit.”
My chest pumps harder when Wilson’s lips thin, his soft gaze regarding me in a way that makes my insides hurt real bad.
“All you had to do was tell me,” I whisper and curse the errant tear that escapes down my cheek.
“I told you,” he snaps and jumps to his feet. “None of this meansanything.”
“I fucking hate you,” I mutter back, unable to stop the way my breath hitches as he shoves shit into one of the duffels we brought with us.
Warmth squeezes my shoulder as he disappears down the chain, the thud of his steps like a shot straight to my heart.
“I’m sorry, baby. I thought you knew.” I shrug out of the hold, but Wilson grabs me just hard enough to spin me back around, his warm gaze crashing to mine. Except this time, I see the remorse shining back in his brown irises. The regret. Thesorrow. “It’s been a decade for me, and I guess I just …” He trails off, his thumb brushing over my cheek in a way that makes it heat. “I got numb to it. That’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.”
Dragging in a deep breath, I lean into him. I can’t help myself. He’s like a magnet and I am helpless to his touch.
“I just wish I’d known. I could have prepared better.”
His brows pinch and his eyes flash like he’s remembering something else. “Are you …” He swallows hard. “Did we hurt you at all?”
I shake my head, then tip it back and forth. “My ass hurts a little.”
The laugh that bursts past his lips feels like fresh air and sunshine. “Yeah. That’s normal, baby.” He clears his throat, but his smile sticks and it has my own teasing the corner of my lips. “You warming me felt amazing.”
“You remember that?”
He nods, the rough pad of his thumb swiping beneath my eye. “I remember all of it, Amo. You’re so good. That tongue’s so talented. That hole’s so sweet.”
The collision of crassness and compliment makes my insides flip all around and my face heats in his hold. He must feel it because his grin grows.
“Kitten!” I stiffen at the yell and roll my eyes. “Lick his wounds later andlet’s go.”
Sighing, I go to pull away from Wilson, but he tightens his hold of my face. For a moment, his eyes flick between mine like he’s looking for something. Like he needs something from me.
“You’ll come back, right?” My chest clenches painfully. “Please tell me I didn’t scare you off?”
I purse my lips to hide the way the bottom one wants to wobble.
I shouldn’t come back. They both lied, or omitted, very important shit from me, and if they’re right then I’m not even supposed to be out here. But why did infection never come up before in my training? I don’t remember that being any part of the process I went through to get here. Did Cassia not know before she signed us up?
I clear my throat and squeeze Wilson’s wrists.
“If they’ll let me, I will.”
And it’s true. Because I believe Wilson when he says that he didn’t realize he needed to say something, even more when our first meeting was him shooting at us. He didn’t know me. It’s not his fault that he’s so far removed from our community that he had no idea.
Moros is a different story.
But the feelings that Wilson brings out in me … I need to see him again.
“I will,” I reiterate to him and his grin spreads.
“I’ll be counting the days, baby.”
