"And I'm not scared of it."
"I know."
"And I'm not going to do anything about it because my brother would kill you."
"No, he wouldn't."
"Okay, he'd try."
A ghost of a smile crosses his mouth.
"I know what he'd try."
"Cocky."
"Accurate."
He takes a step back. Deliberate. Gives me room I didn't ask for and didn't refuse.
"Bed."
"Yes, sir."
It slips out. Habit from another life. The flush I feel is immediate and enormous and entirely on my face.
He goes very still.
Something in his eyes changes shape.
Then, quiet, with absolutely no heat and all the heat in the world at once, he says, "Go to bed, Simone."
I go.
I don't look back.
I make it to the hallway and down it and into my room and I close the door and I lean against it because my knees are not fully operational.
Thirty-six hours.
I'm not going to survive thirty-six hours.
I wakeup at six to the sound of a vehicle on the road below the cabin.
Not close. Not yet.
But closer than it should be.
I sit up in bed and I'm listening so hard I can feel my pulse in my teeth when Gray appears in my doorway without knocking, already dressed, sidearm at his hip, and says one word.
"Up."
I'm already up.
5
GRAYSON
The engine's wrong.
