“What if she’d been dead already?”
“And what if you’d been killed? Then what?” The tone in his voice was hardening. “What if she wasn’t dead, but because you weren’t around to help, she did die later? What if one of us needs you, but you aren’t there? Some of us don’t want to lose you.”
Gemma heard the words he wasn’t saying—thathedidn’t want to lose her—and her shoulders sank.
He was right; she’d been inches from that acid. If it had been him coming that close to death, she would’ve been terrified to lose him too.
He must’ve sensed her shift in thought; he pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned into it, resting her head on his chest.
Christian kissed her hair. “You said you trusted me with your life. Trust me with theirs too.”
A flash of Christian running toward the bounty hunters, grenade in hand, passed through Gemma’s mind. Her chest tightened, but she reminded herself that was the man she loved—the one who would literally blow himself up to save his team. She hated that about him, but it was also the reason she’d fallen for him so hard and so fast.
There was never anyone she’d felt safer with.
Colton and Hawk tended to Imara, who had finally stirred from her stupor. She’d sat up easily enough and now leaned against the boulder.
Gemma stepped out of Christian’s embrace and, with an unspoken understanding, returned to their teammates’ sides so Gemma could assess Imara once more.
Gemma had spent the remainder of the day keeping Imara awake to ensure her concussion hadn’t grown into something more serious. Imara was, of course, annoyed and didn’t hesitate to tell Gemma where to shove her medical experience.
But every now and then, Gemma would catch Imara’s gaze flicker to the now-dead monster that could’ve taken her life, and eventually, her protests ceased.
Staying put also gave them more time to rest. At first, the guys had been frustrated, concerned about returning to Zion on time. But when Gemma warned them about the risk of Imara’s brain swelling if she didn’t rest until at least the morning, they seemed to calm down.
It wasn’t until the sun dipped below the mountain tops that Gemma gave Imara the okay to go to sleep.
“It’s about fucking time,” Imara chirped, leaping to her feet like someone lit her bum on fire.
“Someone will wake you up every two or three hours, though, to make sure you’re still alive,” Gemma warned.
Imara spun and glared at her.
Gemma exaggerated her relaxed stance, challenging Imara to argue. But Imara just growled and flipped her off before crawling into her shelter.
She smiled. Her friend’s personality was still intact.
“Go lay down,” Christian said from behind her. “I’ll take the first watch.”
Gemma watched as he arranged rocks in a tight circle. In the center, he placed a rectangular gray block, its outside covered with a strange sheen.That must be an infernoblock.
Christian stepped back, lit a match, and dropped it into the ring. The block ignited, engulfing their campsite in a bluish-white glow.
“You really do know what you’re doing,” Gemma commented, a hint of awe in her voice.
Without their helmets on, she could see his face tighten at her words.
What had really happened during his hunts? He was a different version of himself out here on Reva’s surface.
“I’m not quite tired yet,” Gemma lied. “Can I sit with you for a bit?”
Christian’s lips lifted in a soft smile. “Of course.”
Gemma sat next to him, her hip brushing against him, and slipped her arm under his. She nestled her head against his broad shoulder.
“Talk to me, Holm,” she said, deepening her voice in an attempt to mimic the sound of his.
He laughed. “What in the blazes was that? You sounded like an old woman with constipation.”
