I do need to fucking focus.
Iwantto focus.
But her voice echoes in my skull, louder than the gunfire ever could. Her hands on me. Her breath in my mouth. And something sharp coils low in my gut because I know what this is. I just don’t want to name it. Because if I say it out loud, it becomes real. I don’t do feelings. I don’t do love. That’s what I told her. Told myself.
But it’s a lie.
And I’m starting to believe I’ve been lying for a long, long time.
Her raised voice bounces off the walls of the bunker, arguing with Arsen—again. She storms through the door, brushing past me without a glance. Arsen follows close behind, teeth bared.
“This is all your fucking fault, Priest.” He stabs a finger at me as Arlo disappears into the gear room. “You’re going to get her killed.”
He’s not wrong. But I don’t give a fuck. Because I need her. Need her where I can see her. Smell her. Control her.
Every second she’s not near me is a fucking countdown. My brain starts shorting out—noise screaming in my ears, pulse hammering, the itch under my skin turning into something violent.
I can’t think. Can’t focus. Can’t breathe.
So yeah, she’s coming.
She shouldn’t be. She’s hurt. Sloppy. Emotionally compromised. And I’m worse…unraveling. Coming apart at the seams. And the only thing holding me together is her.
Keeping her close means I don’t lose control.
Keeping her close means I don’t put a bullet in someone who doesn’t deserve it.
Keeping her close means the monster inside me stays pointed in the right direction.
Arsen steps into my space. “You agreed to this op with me, not to drag your pet into another bloodbath.”
“You don’t give the orders here.”
“She’s not a soldier.”
“She’smine, and she’s going.”
I don’t care if it’s rational. She’s not going to die. Because she’ll be with me. And I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about stopping that from happening.
Arsen’s in the front of the rig, going over specs with everyone on the comms. The inside of the SUV is a metal tomb crammed with bodies, gear, and the sour stench of stale coffee and weapon oil.
Raze tilts his head back against the wall beside me, pulls his earpiece out.
“This whole goddamn op’s a suicide run,” he mutters.
He’s not wrong.
Sterling’s using Dalton and?Alistair as bait. He knows we’ll come. He wants us to. A perfect trap and we’re driving straight into it anyway. Because it’s the only way I get close enough to rip Sterling’s heart out of his chest.
Arlo’s silently sitting in the back. She hasn’t looked at me since she climbed in. The gear she’s wearing is too big, stolen from some dead fuck’s locker. The oversized tac vest swallows her frame, making her look smaller. It will do its job. That’s all that matters.
I move toward her, my shadow spilling across her boots and up her legs. She flinches when I get closer. Her knuckles white on the rifle, eyes glued to the floor.
“Kitten.”
I drop onto the bench beside her. My leg presses against hers, closing the space.
“What.”
