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However, reality refused to be ignored. Everything came rushing back, including the overwhelming smell trying to suffocate me.
“What is that?” I cupped a hand over my nose and finally wrenched my gaze away from the gorgeous man in front of me.
I honed in on a little girl standing by a bloodied man hanging from a meat hook, a friendly smile on her face.
If I was seeing things correctly, he was missing large pieces of flesh.
In fact, there was flesh everywhere.
Shelves were lined with jars of things that would give me months of nightmares. Metal tubs full of lye were dissolving who knows what.
I turned my gag into a cough and backed out of the barn, the stench making my eyes burn.
Cobra was quick to follow, his silver eyes completely focused on me, which only added to my complete humiliation when I turned to the side and nearly doubled over from a coughing fit, as if my lungs could spit out the foul odor they’d just ingested.
I was aware of the rear door slamming shut, and then Cobra’s hand was rubbing my back.
When I was done, I awkwardly regained my posture.
“You good?” he asked, yet to remove his hand.
I sniffed a few times, relieved that the smell seemed to be well contained in the confines of the barn.
I gave him a small smile and nodded. “As long as I don’t go in there, I will be.”
“Yeah, it’s an acquired taste kind of thing.” He laughed softly, pulling his facemask off.
He removed his hand, too, and I immediately wanted to put it back. Then, I remembered everything that had happened and all the things he didn’t know, and it felt like a vise tightened around my heart.
I took a small step back, swallowing when his brows furrowed in displeasure.
He reached out and grabbed my lower wrist to stop me from going any
further.
“Cobra, we need—”
“Not yet,” he cut me off. “I can see it all over your face. Whatever you’re going to tell me isn’t good.”
“But I—”
He shook his head again.
“The first thing we’re going to do is get you cleaned up. Can we do that?”
I looked up at him, really looked at him, and there went another piece of my heart.
He looked exhausted. His eyes were tired, but it was the kind of tired sleep wasn’t going to fix, full of a deep rooted pain; I hated myself for knowing what I did. I hated that I would have to add to whatever burden already crushing him.
It was disarming to go from uncaring to feeling so much of his sadness that it physically hurt.
“We can do that,” I breathed softly.
“Thank you,” he said, seeming genuinely relieved, me with an authentic smile. “Come on.” He nodded to the walkway the acolytes had taken, and slid his fingers from my wrist to my hand.
A trail of electricity followed their path.
We walked side by side towards the farmhouse I’d seen from the Jeep.
