Page 25 of The Girl Who Broke Free (Death Fields 5)

“Why? Because you planned this all along?”

“All along? I’ve just been back a week. Before that I was slaving away for Chloe and participating in her deranged Fight Club. I haven’t had time for plans, I was trying to survive.”

I expect anger. Instead I get hurt. “Don’t lie to me. Not about this.”

“About what, Wyatt? We’ve both put ourselves on the line before. How is this any different?”

“You’re talking about becoming the very thing you’re fighting against!” he shouts, jumping from the chair. I watch as he paces the room trying to formulate his thoughts. “You’re talking fucking with your mind and your body. Your entire personality is at risk. Your soul.”

“Bullshit. I’m talking about fighting fire against fire. If you haven’t noticed, it’s the only thing that works.”

“Not this way.”

He looks lost. Desperate. There’s a shade of anger and fear I’ve never seen on his face before. Panic deep in his eyes. It’s a physical reaction and it’s enough to make my resolve waver. A little.

I step forward. “I have to do something.”

He jerks his head to the side when I reach for him, so I grab him at the hip. It’s an intimate touch, one I’ve resisted for days. I’ve been too scared to let down the wall because what happens if we lose each other again?

I say what I feel. “We’ll get through this, too. Like we always do. Soul, mind, and body intact.”

His shoulders tense and he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t want to lose you again and I’m terrified that could happen in a whole other way with this injection.” Those tears I’ve held back for days threaten to spill as he continues. “We’ve fought through hell over the last year and you are the only light left in my world. You’re what keeps me going. Keeps me fighting. Your heart and spirit—I can’t lose that, Alex.”

“We’re going to lose either way, don’t you see that?”

I’m braced for another argument, but he moves quickly, wrapping his hands around the back of my head and pulling me into a hard kiss.

My heart kicks into gear and I clutch at the fabric of his shirt. We part, breathing heavy, and all I can think of is how thoughts of this moment haunted me late at night in my cell.

I thought I’d never get to see him, feel him or kiss him again. But now he’s here and he’s so very warm. He moves his hands to my face, skimming his fingers down my cheek before kissing me again. I feel a jolt and the

real latent fear I’ve stuffed away for all these months erupts like a volcano.

Love.

My reservations slip away and I don’t just fall into his kiss, I demand it and more. If he’s startled by my aggression, he doesn’t show it. No, he reacts in kind, whatever emotion he’s been holding back showing in his mouth, hands, and body.

We make it to the bed and straddling his hips, I push his shirt off over his head. I touch the scars on his chest, the jagged one I stitched myself days after we met. I had no idea then we’d be like this more than a year later. My best friend, my confidant and protector. He tugs at the hem of my shirt and I’m fully aware that things continue progressing, Wyatt is a heartbeat from becoming my lover.

I push his hands away and lift the shirt over my head.

He looks up at me, hazel eyes glassy in the morning light. A thin crease appears on his forehead and he exhales in a hard heave. “You sure about this?”

“More than sure.”

He stares at me, making sure I’m not an emotional mess. I can’t promise that but my feelings are real and he’s proven himself to me, over and over again. In a blink he’s back to kissing me and flips our positions. His hands take away the pain of isolation. His words heal the wounds in my heart. His mouth lifts the fear I’ve carried since we last touched and together our bodies mend the divide others have created between us. We pause, breaking for him to dig through the side drawer next to the bed for a square package and my mind loves this man even more. So smart. Fearless.

He presses his damp forehead against mine and holds my gaze. In heavy breath and combined movement we sink fully into each other, pushing away our enemies and banish the soul-crushing monsters that wait outside the gates. We break free from the chains that bind us to our fears and simply dedicate our love and trust to one another.

Chapter Eighteen

In the morning light I feel less bold, awkwardly searching for my discarded clothing in the small apartment. Wyatt, ever aware, remedies the moment with a kiss and a gruff explanation that he’s off to kick some recruit ass before the pending battle.

Ah, post-apocalyptic life continues.

Down on the street there’s a noticeable vibe change. The soldiers look tense. Half of the shops are closed. I don’t see a single child as I walk toward Town Hall. There’s a palpable feel to the day. Everyone is in motion. This includes me as well.

“Ms. Ramsey?” A guard asks as I cross the threshold of the building. I note the dark Hybrid eyes.

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