I cupped her jaw, thumb brushing a strand of her damp hair behind her ear. “Always.”
Her breath hitched. Not fear. Something else. Something warmer. Something dangerous.
I stood, boots hitting the floor too loud in the quiet room. She sat up, blanket slipping down her shoulders, bare skin catching the low light. My gaze dragged over her before I could stop it. The curve of her neck, soft dip of her collarbone, the line where my shirt from earlier hung a little too loose on her frame.
Heat punched low in my stomach. I pushed it down hard.
At the doorway, her voice pulled me back again.
“Wrecker?”
I turned.
She wasn’t trembling anymore. She wasn’t shrinking. She wasn’t frozen.
She looked right at me, chin lifted just the slightest bit. The same stubborn, fearless spark that had gotten her into that hub in the first place was finally creeping back in.
“Be careful,” she said.
I nodded. “For you? Always.”
And I left before I could climb back into that bed and never leave again.
6
AMANDA
I was doing fine.
Notfinefine. But functional. Upright. Breathing. Carrying a tray stacked with mugs from the sink to the long prep table like I’d done it a hundred times before. My hands shook a little, but I told myself that was normal. Nerves burned off when you stayed busy. That’s what I’d always done.
The clubhouse smelled like coffee and oil and something Brutus had started simmering that looked dangerous but tasted good. The windows were open. Sunlight cut across the floor in long bars. Smoke lay stretched out near the door, tail thumping every time someone passed.
I told myself I was safe.
Boots scuffed behind me.
Not fast. Not aggressive. Just close enough that I heard his boots scuff the concrete.
The sound hit my spine like a switch.
My chest locked. My breath went shallow so fast it felt like someone had wrapped a band around my ribs and pulled. The hallway narrowed. The walls leaned in. The air thickened, heavy and wrong.
I took one more step.
The tray slipped.
Ceramic shattered against the floor.
Someone said my name, but it sounded far away, warped, like it was echoing through a tunnel. My vision tunneled, the edges going dark, the center sharpening into something else entirely.
The freight elevator.
Metal doors. Fluorescent light. The smell of cleaning solution and fear.
I was there again.
Time folded in on itself.
