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Kill. Him.
24
Loki put his arm over the other man’s neck, pressing on it.
“Loki . . . find Isabelle . . . needs you. Tink . . . needs . . . you.”
Tink needed him? Where was she? What had this asshole done to her?
“Loki? Oh God, Loki. Let him go. You’re safe. You’re in Wishingbone. It’s me. It’s Tinkerbelle. You’re safe with me. But please, you have to let Remy go.”
What the fuck? How had they gotten to Tink? They’d brought her here into hell?
“No one has me,” Tink told him. “No one is hurting me. I’m safe. You’re here with me. Protecting me.” Arms slowly circled him and he stiffened. He needed to shove them off him.
Tap-tap—tap.
He knew that tap. The one on his chest. It wastheirsignal.
His and Tink’s.
For when he didn’t know where he was or what was real.
Two quick light taps. Then, one firm and slow.
Tap-tap—tap.
Safe. He was safe. This wasn’t real.
“It’s not real, Ki-Ki. You’re safe. Step back, Lachie. I have you. You’re safe.”
Was she safe, though?
“I need you to let Remy go. He can’t breathe and I need him to breathe. So please let him go.”
Remy? Who the fuck was Remy?
“Big guy. Cowboy. Staring problem. Big dick energy.”
A small laugh sounded from behind him. “That’s him. Need you to let him go, Ki-Ki. For me.”
Let him go?
Loki looked at the person in front of him, the one whose air he was cutting off. And he realized that the man he was strangling wasn’t the enemy.
Well . . . he kind of was.
But not the kill-or-be-killed kind.
Loki immediately dropped his arm, letting Remy suck in some much-needed air. The guy had been a bit red in the face, but that slowly drained away as he kept breathing in nice and slow.
Isa moved around Loki, getting between the two of them and cuddling into his chest. Not a smart idea.
“Isa, move away,” Remy said at the same time that Loki picked her up and placed her to the side of him.
“Tink, you know better to touch me when I’m having a flashback.”
Fuck. He hadn’t had a flashback like that in a while. And now he was shaking. Sweaty and uncertain.
