Oh.
Oh, no.
My brain goes blank.
Then immediately fills with things it has no business imagining.
I take another step back, not because I want distance, but because I need air.
“I need a shower,” I blurt.
Ace blinks once.
Then his mouth twitches.
“Yeah,” he says, voice rougher than before. “Okay.”
“I mean because of the blood.”
“I know.”
“And dirt.”
“I know that too.”
“And because if I stand here any longer, I’m going to say something stupid.”
His eyes heat.
“Then shower’s probably smart.”
I press my lips together, because there is no safe answer to that.
He points toward the small bathroom door. “Towels are in there. Soap too. I’ve got clean clothes in the dresser. They’ll be big, but they’re clean.”
“Thank you.”
His gaze softens again. “Take your time. Door locks from the inside.”
That detail nearly breaks me.
He knows I need to hear it.
I walk toward the bathroom on legs that still don’t feel entirely reliable.
At the door, I glance back.
Ace stands in the middle of the cabin, shirtless, bandaged, too handsome for my survival, watching me like he is fighting himself and losing by inches.
“Reina,” he says.
I pause.
“You’re safe here.”
I believe him.
That might be the most dangerous part of all.
