"No you don't."
His smile widens, just a fraction. "No. I don't."
I kiss him. Gentle, careful of his injuries. His mouth opens under mine, warm and willing, and the grief and the guilt and the weight of everything we've lost fades into the background. There's just this. Just us. Just the fragile, impossible thing we're building in the wreckage of our lives.
When we break apart, his eyes are soft. Unguarded in a way I've rarely seen.
"Take me back to bed," he says.
"You need to rest, if that’s code for ‘let’s fuck’, my answer is no."
"I know." His hand slides up my chest, over my heart. "Rest with me."
I help him back to the mattress, ease him down, stretch out beside him. His head finds my shoulder. His hand rests on my chest. His breathing slows as exhaustion pulls him under.
"Asher?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For not letting me push you away."
"Couldn't if I tried. You're stuck with me now."
"Worse fates." His voice is slurring, sleep claiming him. "Could be stuck with someone who doesn't know how to make coffee."
"My coffee is excellent."
"It's adequate." A pause. "Don't tell anyone I said that."
"Your secret's safe."
He's asleep within minutes, his body going heavy against mine, the tension draining out of him as exhaustion finally wins. His breathing slows into the deep, even rhythm of true rest. His hand twitches against my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt even in sleep.
I lie awake a while longer, listening to his breathing, feeling his heartbeat against my palm. The moonlight has shifted, casting new shadows across the room. The farmhouse settles around us, old bones creaking in the cold.
Two weeks. Then Singapore.
And somewhere out there, the people responsible for all of this. The Silent. The branches of the shit show that runs the world. All the Ministries, the Foundry… all of it. They knew we were coming, which means there's a leak somewhere, someone feeding them information.
We'll find them. All of them. The traitors and the monsters and everyone who profits from the suffering of children.
Dom believed in this fight. Believed in it enough to die for it. The least I can do is see it through.
I press my lips to Jinx's hair, breathe in the scent of him. It instantly calms me. The smell of the man I'm falling in love with. The man who took a bullet for me. The man who's slowly, stubbornly learning how to let someone in.
We're coming for them.
All of them.
And this time, we're not going to fail.
I close my eyes and let sleep take me. For the first time since Geneva, the dreams that come are not of blood.
They're ofhim.
Chapter Nine: Jinx
Twoweeksistoofucking long.
