“Youarebeing careless if you’re willingly taking the risk. You’re suicidal and—”
“Was. Iwas, baby. Not anymore. I promised you,” he whispers against my lips.
My heart clenches. He’s going to do this with or without me. Because he wants to keep Dev out of this. Because he wants to stop the operation before more kids suffer.
“This... this is yoursavior complextalking,” I retort weakly—my voice thick with tears.
I’m trying my hardest to change his stupid mind. But I can see it in his eyes—it’s not working. There’s a rare gleam of fierce determination there that makes my stomach drop.
“Maybe...” he relents softly as my panic comes back full-force. “Or maybe it’s just something I want to do knowing you’ll beright there. Protecting me.”
I shake my head frantically. The tears I’ve been holding back start to blur my vision of his ravaged face. “No.”
“Baby—”
“Please.”
The word claws out of my chest—raw and desperate.
My vision clears and I realize—horrifically—it’s because the tears are now falling.
Unrelenting.Unforgiving.
He tries to wipe them away, but I keep shaking my head.
My knees grow weaker when I realize—I’m not the only one crying.
I can’t lose him.
I knowI can’t fucking lose this man to death.
I don’t even want to risk it. The fear is lodged deep in my chest now, stealing every ounce of air.
“Please...”
“Gree,” he whispers, his face crumpling.
“Please,” I try again, just as my legs give out and I slide down the door behind me.
I don’t sob. I don’t wail.
I just...sink.
Advik drops with me, holding on to my body like it’s the only wreckage worth surviving.
He’s panicking now too.
His eyes search mine, frantic and tormented.
“I’ve got you, baby.” He holds me tighter. “And you’ve got me.”
I keep whispering that one word like a prayer I’m too late to make.
And he keeps whispering back reassurances like he still believes we’ll be okay.
THIRTY-NINE
Advik
