Page 91 of Bared

No answer to that was even palatable.

But having to consider them was the perfect kindling for her new fire. The explosions, back just in time, making her release Brickham’s hands so she could lunge all the way at him. Luckily—miraculously—he let her. His knees parted at her pressure, and she did not stop until they were chest to chest in a messy but perfect embrace.

The whole time, he never stopped rocking.

So she picked up the rhythm, swaying with him.

“It is only me,” she said once more, punctuating with a gentle kiss to his ear. Beneath her lips, he got down a labored swallow. “I am here, Brickham. I am here.”

His only answer was another brutal shiver. She wrapped herself tighter around him. Her limbs trembled as she fought to absorb some of his torment. “I am here,” she told him again, fitting his forehead against her neck. “I am right here. Right here.”

She kept the words soft, her strength solid, and her prayers continuous. But the Creator had used up a lot of attention on them already tonight, so Brickham remained a prisoner of his fear’s alternate dimension. Nothing made her surer of that than the words that rasped from him next.

“Don’t leave me.” His rocking got worse. “Don’t leave me.” Then even more so, as he cinched his arms around her with painful force. “Don’t leave me.”

“I am right here.” She pushed it out with the meager air her lungs were still capable of. “I am not going anywhere, Brickham.”

Thankfully, that seemed to register with him. The pressure of his head against her neck was a rough, desperate push. His stubble stabbed through her shirt and scratched at her collarbone. She barely noticed. Not when his massive body surrendered to more violent shivers.

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave!”

“Brickham.” At last, as the uniforms finally moved off to search another quadrant of the graveyard, she was able to growl it more than whisper it. She pulled back by a few inches, far enough to grip his contorted face. “Look at me. I am here!”

But he was not back. Not all the way. To him she might as well have been one of the ghosts in this place. “Don’t do it, damn it. Don’t leave me, Asha!”

She stiffened. That made sense when one’s veins turned cold enough to suck the air out of their lungs all over again. She was not just a ghost now. She was battling the memory of one. A memory strong enough to make this vital man turn catatonic. But she could barely see her way straight to honoring that, instead fighting her way out of an emotional cesspool. A mire she had rarely visited her whole life, let alone dipped a figurative toe into.

Who the hell was she kidding? She was more than a toe’s worth of jealous.

“Damn it.” She gave up the spiteful ice for a steam bath of shame. This was ridiculous. No, worse. This was stupid. Brickham was the man in her embrace now, and he needed her.

But as much as she needed him?

Lightning could have struck the cemetery and blown her nerves apart less. But as she recognized the confession as her glaring truth, she was more clear than ever about what she had to do. For both of them.

Chapter Thirteen

He was shaking all over but unable to move. Burning up on the inside, but an iceberg on the outside. All his muscles were locked; all his senses were screaming.

Get out! Get out! Get out!

Exactly as they had in the caves beneath Bamiyan.

Just like then, it was dark and damp. He could hear insects scuttering against the walls and water trickling like some goddamned resort fountain. But beyond that, it was quiet. Too fucking quiet. Why was it so quiet?

Get out. Don’t wait, damn it. You waited last time. You remember that, right? You waited on her—and nearly paid the ultimate price. The price you watched her pay…

“Brickham.”

But if she had really paid that price, why was she calling to him? Was she trying to tell him something, from beyond the grave? If so, then what?

“No,” he growled. “No, damn it.” I’m not listening this time, Asha. You need to just rest, girl. Please…just rest…

“Brickham!”

Why wouldn’t she rest? Why wouldn’t she leave him the hell alone?

“Brickham, please. You have to hear me. You have to come back to me!”