Warm.
My pulse stumbles instantly.
“You’re bleeding.”
I blink down at myself.
“Oh.” I glance at the blood covering my sleeve. “Most of it isn’t mine.”
Most.
His stare snaps back to mine so fast it almost makes me regret saying it.
“Most?”
“It’s a graze,” I say quickly. “I’m fine.”
The look he gives me says he absolutely hates hearing those words from me now.
Good.
Maybe he finally understands how frustrating he is.
Before either of us can say another word, Russ appears through the smoke near the entrance.
“We’ve got incoming militia moving from the south side!” he shouts. “We need to move now!”
“Still civilians inside,” I yell back immediately.
Russ’s gaze shifts toward me briefly.
Then the warehouse.
Then back again.
“Of course there are,” he mutters.
Clay drags a hand down his face.
“We split,” he says immediately. “Lucas and Miles extract civilians. Russ covers the south entrance.”
“And you?” Russ asks.
Clay’s eyes lock on mine.
Every bit of air leaves my lungs.
“I'm getting her out myself.”
The words hit somewhere deep and dangerous inside my chest.
Because he says it like there was never another option.
Gunfire erupts again from deeper inside the warehouse.
One of the younger children screams.
I move instantly toward the sound—
