I slip into the driver's side and start the engine, backing out of this hellhole. We drive in silence.
She stares out the window, lips tight, arms wrapped around her backpack. Tense like she might bolt the second we stop.
As I drive, I watch her from the corner of my eye and try—reallyfucking try—not to think about her over my knee. How perfectly she fit there. How the shirt rode up, baring those goddamn tattoos, skin flushed and hot under my touch.
How she whimpered when my hand landed. How she shuddered. The scent of her that wrapped around me, maddening and sweet.
How my fangs throbbed like I hadn't fed in weeks.
How every part of me screamed to take. To bend her over, bury myself deep, and keep punishing her until she sobbed the truth into my mouth.
Fuck.
I shift in my seat, trying to ease the ache—not the one in my shoulder. That one I can deal with. It's the other that's the real torment.
"You're hurt. I can help," she says quietly.
"I'll be fine. I'm just a dead body, remember?" I shoot back with a smirk.
She huffs, turning to the window again like I'm not worth the oxygen.
Then, after a pause, softer: "Why did you follow me?"
"I've seen how much trouble you attract. Figured you'd get into more before you leave this town. I was right," I reply,grinning. "Though I've got to say, the kung fu routine was impressive. Knocked that guy's nose into next week."
A small smile flickers on her lips. "What? Upset I'm not some helpless damsel you get to rescue?"
My grin widens. "Maybe a little. You stole a bit of my heroic thunder out there."
She scoffs, but there's no bite in it. "Heroic," she mutters, dry as desert sand.
"Oh, come on. I caught a bullet for you midair. That's gotta earn me at least one hero star, no?"
She tilts her head, considering. "Catchis a strong word, considering you… you know… gotshot. But fine. One star. Expires tomorrow."
"You're hard to impress," I murmur, amused.
"Gotta keep you on your toes," she tosses back without missing a beat.
She's softening. Just a little, but enough to make something shift deep inside me.
Damn. It's dangerous how fucking good it feels to see her smile.
CHAPTER TEN
Sage
"I have a bus ticket for tomorrow morning," I tell Kayden as we step back into the house. "So I'll only stay one more night."
All I get in response is a grunt, something noncommittal, borderline annoyed.
"I'm serious," I insist, stepping in front of him to catch his gaze.
But he doesn't answer. He grabs me by the waist mid-motion, turns me smoothly, and guides me toward the sofa—gentle, practiced, a kind of soft manhandling that shouldn't feel as good as it does. I don't resist. The moment I sink into the cushions, the crackle of the fire warms me from the outside, and his closeness… from somewhere else entirely.
A glass appears in my hand. Scotch, double pour.
I should refuse. I should say something biting or distant. But the truth is, I need it. Not because I'm shaken—I've been through worse. But the fight left a lingering tension in my muscles, and I just walked back into the den of predators. Voluntarily.
