I found his gaze on mine—dark, steady, too damn intense.
“Or it’ll scare them,” I said, tying off the bandage.
“That, too.”
I stepped back, putting distance between us, and started packing up the first aid kit.
Silence stretched between us, thick and awkward.
I’d planned to sleep on his sofa to keep watch and make sure he didn’t take off without me, but there was no sofa, just that massive bed in the corner that I absolutely was not getting into. But I had to stay, to make sure he didn’t abandon me in the morning.
“I don’t trust you,” I blurted.
He frowned. “What?”
“I don’t trust you not to take off in the chopper without me.”
His expression shifted from surprise to unmistakable hurt. He reached for my hand.
I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve maintained the professional distance I’d been clinging to all night.
But I didn’t.
His fingers wrapped around mine, warm and calloused, and his eyes locked on me the way they used to. The way that made everything else disappear.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough. “I was wrong to choose my siblings over you. I should’ve told you everything from the start.” He paused, his thumb brushing across my knuckles. “You don’t have to forgive me, Sapphire. But I need you to believe I’ll never lie to you again.”
My throat tightened.
This was too much. I had a case to solve, two killers to catch, and a career that might be on the line. I didn’t have room for whatever the hell this was becoming.
Keep it professional.
I slipped my hand free. “Look, I don’t know what to believe anymore. So much happened today that my brain feels like a live grenade ready to go off. I just need a good night’s sleep, and I can’t do that if I’m lying awake, worrying you’ll sneak off to that cave without me.”
He nodded, and the sadness that washed over his face nearly crushed me. “You have my word I won’t.”
“Good.” I shifted my weight. “But just to be sure, I’ll sleep on the floor or something.”
His jaw tightened, and frustration flashed in his eyes. “You’re not sleeping on the damn floor, Sapphire.” His voice left no room for argument. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep over there.”
Before I could protest, he crossed to the bed, grabbed a pillow, and stalked to the far corner. He dropped the pillow onto a narrow bench-seat built into the wall that I hadn’t even noticed, barely more than a wooden plank with a thin cushion.
He lay on his back and punched the pillow into shape a few times. All six-foot-five of him was crammed into a space clearly not meant for sleeping, and definitely not meant for a man his size. His knees were bent at an awkward angle, his feet hung off the end, and one arm was draped over the armrest like he was trying to convince himself he was comfortable.
“Kayden, I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
“Discussion’s over,” he said, closing his eyes. “Turn out the light.”
I stood there, first aid kit still in hand, staring at him.
This was a terrible idea.
All of it.
But I was too exhausted to fight anymore.
I left the first aid kit on the table, found the light switch, and flicked it off. Silvery moonlight filtered through the three windows, and after a few seconds, my eyes adjusted enough to see Kayden’s silhouette against the far wall.
