The realization lands between us like a grenade. Her eyes flash with horror, and I don’t hesitate, grabbing her hand and racing againstthe clock.
My boots hammer against the polished floor as I drag her toward the massive window overlooking the darkened Austin skyline. A low hiss grows into a violent roar as gas pours from what I can only assume are ruptured lines behind the stove, and in the blink of an eye, heat blooms at our backs as the world ignites.
“Jump,” I roar, her hand crushed in mine.
The explosion tears through the room in a wall of blazing fire, the force blowing the windows outward just as we launch ourselves into the night.
Glass shatters around us, glittering like rain as the blast chases us into the open air. Kiara’s scream rips through the night, and for a second, there’s nothing but wind, city lights, and her.
Then gravity takes us, and we plummet to the hard earth below.
I twist in midair, hauling her against me, and wrapping my body around hers as the ground rushes up beneath us, until my back slams against the roof of a parked car, caving beneath the impact, the metal screaming as it buckles.
Pain detonates through me, white and blinding, and just like that, my world ceases to exist.
***
CHAPTER 20
KIARA
Consciousness doesn’t return gently. It claws its way back in pieces as the subtle beep of a heart rate monitor tries to keep me grounded.
The first thing I remember is the heat. Not the sound. Not the fall. Just the unbelievable heat scorching my back as the flames consumed us. But then we fell, and the flames were gone, leaving us to plummet to the ground beneath us.
My hands flinch at my sides, and a sharp pain shoots up my arm, a feeling I’ve only ever had when there was a hairline fracture in my hand, something that would only happen after beating the living shit out of somebody. But it wasn’t from that. I know Raiden and I fought like cats and dogs, but this break comes from the way he crushed my hand into his as he ran toward that window. My feet scrambled underme, barely able to keep up with his momentum, but I wasn’t willing to leave everything behind in that fifth-story penthouse. It wasn’t worth it.
Nothing is worth having to walk away from everything I have . . . from him.
My throat burns with every breath, but at least I’m no longer breathing in the flames. Now, there’s a sterile taste to the air, and I know without a doubt that I’m lying in a hospital bed, probably a million miles away from home.
My arms feel heavy, and as I try to move them, I feel a sharp pinch at my wrist combined with the distinct feeling of too-sticky tape pulling at my skin.
Great. Just fucking great. I’m attached to an IV line. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s literally the most basic assumption anyone could make about being in the hospital, and yet, I don’t like it. It makes me feel as though I’m being held down by something.
The memories flash in my mind like a broken movie that’s stuck on rewind.
The glass. The explosion. The fear.
His voice screaming for me to jump.
Fuck.
God, I hope he’s okay. I’m not one who’s religious. In my line of work, what’s the point? But for the first time in my life, I have the overwhelming need to beg to whoever or whatever exists out there, desperate to know that Raiden made it through.
He grabbed me as we plummeted from the fifth story, letting me use his body as a human shield before we crashed into the roof of a car. He absorbed the impact to save my life. How could anybody survive that? I know Raiden is capable of things beyond what any human should be able to achieve, but there’s just no way. It’s not possible.
Tears well in my eyes, slowly rolling over the side and falling to the cheap pillow beneath my head, and I instantly want to scold myself. The Kiara of six weeks ago wouldn’t even recognize this new version of myself. Crying over a man who has done nothing but drive me crazy, yet the idea of not having him live right next door, solely for the purpose of infuriating me . . . fuck.
What has he done to me?
As the tears come in thicker and faster, I try to focus on the room, the alien emotions not sitting well with me. Hell, I’d cut him with my blade and almost fell to pieces in his arms. Surely, there must be something wrong with me. Maybe it’s a brain tumor. It’s the only logical explanation.
Opening my eyes, I try to focus on the room around me. My bed is closed in by curtained walls, and honestly, there’s a whole lot of nothing to look at.
I can hear the faint sound of other people sharing what must be some kind of communal recovery ward, a far cry from the private rooms I’m used to staying in after a job goes south. There’s the subtle sound of at least six heart rate monitors in the room, and I groan. IfI have to smell even one rank fart, I’m throwing myself out another window. I can’t do shared hospital rooms with all their coughing and groaning and ugh.
I vomit a little in my mouth at just the thought of all the airborne diseases this room has seen.
