"I've had worse."
Her breath fans my collarbone. "They all say that."
I hate the thought of that. How many other men has she patched up?
A knife is about to be pulled out of me any second, followed by excruciating pain, and I'm jealous?
What the fuck.
"Three, two—" And then she pulls.
I bite down on the pain and the awful sound trying to crawl out of my throat. She presses gauze to the wound and I catch her scent again. It's intoxicating and I hate it. I wish she smelled awful.
"Still breathing?"
"Disappointed?" I peer up at her. She holds my gaze for a few seconds, then her cheeks flush and her eyes drop.
My stomach does this weird fluttering dance.
Her thumb drags over my ribs, wiping away the last of the blood. "You don't die easy, do you?"
"Never gave it a fair try. Would you like me to?"
Her hand stills, palm flat against my skin. For a second she just watches the rise and fall of my chest. "Not really. Then I'd probably be stuck dealing with your corpse."
My hand hovers above hers. "Why did you come back for me?"
Her gaze flicks to my mouth, then away. "I don't know. Instinct, maybe."
"That's not it."
I spooked her. She springs up, gathering the blood-soaked cloths, putting distance between us. When she's done, she brings water and holds it to my mouth. I drink, watching her kneel beside me. She's not checking the wounds, just studying me—drawn in by something foreign to us both.
Her fingers trail along my throat, stopping where the pulse beats. "Try not to die again."
"No promises."
Her lips part like she might say something else, but she doesn't. Her eyes trace the lines of my face like she might forget what I look like the second she's gone. Then she stands, the spell breaking with the scrape of her boots.
She leaves without looking back.
When she's gone, the room seems colder. The weight of the night heavier than before.
I can still feel her fingers on my skin.
A phantom touch that burns deeper than the knife ever could.
I jolt awake,heart racing, fingers tracing the scar below my ribs.
Years later, and I still wake up feeling her hands where the pain used to be.
I fell in love with Keira that night and never admitted it. Not to myself or to her.
The truth is, I never walked away from her. Even when I hated her, it still kept us linked in some fucked-up way.
My phone buzzes.
It's Nick. "We have her location."
