Page 162 of Immune

The compound waits ahead, and the others wait just behind us. The world, annoyingly, continues ending no matter which direction you look. And I’m standing on a rusted platform with an injured Alpha who has followed me through streets, roofs, tunnels, rain, Zeds, Runners, looters, Vector, and my own particular brand of fucked-up personality.

I should step back. I should. But I don’t.

“You stopped,” I mutter instead.

“Yup.”

“Quite fast, too.”

“Yup.”

“Why?” I push, a small niggle of desperation burrowing under my skin for the answer.

His gaze doesn’t once leave mine when he says, “Because you stopped.”

Something sharp and jagged in my chest shifts uncomfortably, and I can’t help my mouth from asking, “That’s… it?”

Kaito only shrugs. “That’s everything.”

My breath catches right in my chest, because he means it. Not as some cheesy line or something pretty to drop at my feet in hopes I get distracted by it. It’s just as simple as gravity and blood loss and knives sinking in sharp side first.

I step closer before I decide to even move, and Kaito turns still once more. But, this time, it’s very clear he doesn’t still from the pain.

“You’re hurt,” I say quietly.

“Yup.”

“You should probably tell me this is a bad idea,” I mutter.

“It probably is.”

“That’s very helpful.”

With a slow shake of his head, he tells me, “But not because I don’t want it.”

The platform suddenly feels ten times smaller, and the air seems to grow a whole lot warmer. Or, maybe that’s just me. Yeah, probably me. My blockers are weak, my body is a grade-A nightmare, and Kaito’s scent is wrapping around my senses like smoke finding every corner in a room.

Burning wood.

Worn flannel.

Want.

He doesn’t move first. Doesn’t budge a single inch. Infuriating man. Careful man.

Instead, I lift my hand and reach toward him, stopping just before my hand connects with his chest. Then I whisper, “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“I know,” he answers quickly.

“You follow me way too much,” I add.

“I know that, too.”

“And you keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asks, voice dropping even lower.

I eye him closely before I finally answer. “Like you’re waiting for me to run away.”