Page 9 of Ash Fall

"I know."

"You don't know shit."

"You're right that I didn’t know him," Torrin's voice stays calm. "But you’re wrong if you think I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone I care about."

The soldier's breathing gets harder, but his hand remains stuck where the command stopped it. Torrin looks sick about it. He doesn't want this kind of control over people.

"Torrin," I say softly.

His eyes meet mine for half a second before he turns back to the soldiers. "You will listen to what happened without attacking anyone here. Davey threatened Luna with a loaded rifle. He was going to shoot her. His death happened while we were defending ourselves. You will not retaliate against anyone in this house because of it."

The look on his face is full of pain and anger. His fingers are twitching, like he is fighting for control and wants to put his hands on his rifle. I can see when he gives up and his muscles relax. He can move, he can make his own choices, he just can’t do anything to hurt us. I don’t know if it should, but Torrin only controlling the soldiers’ ability to hurt us instead forbidding them to do anything makes me feel a little bit better about having to exert control over them at all.

The shorter soldier scrubs both hands over his face. "Davey was being a fucking idiot all day."

The taller man turns on him. "Shut the fuck up, Charlie."

"He was and you bloody well know it." Charlie looks toward us. "He kept talking about what he'd take from the houses before we pulled out, and he tried to shoot that dog a few houses down. He was getting into all of this a little too much."

Gage's expression hardens. The taller soldier swears and looks away. He doesn't forgive us, but the fight has gone out of him. That's enough for now.

Gage steps forward. "How many soldiers are outside?"

"Just the driver," Charlie says. "He's parked up the block. The rest of the patrol moved on to finish the next street."

"And at the warehouse?"

"It depends on the rotation. Usually, a couple dozen between the gate, yard and inside. More at night."

Gage starts asking questions, and the soldiers answer. Guard positions, shifts, entrances, vehicles, where the prisoners are kept. His expression gets more focused with every answer. This is the version of Gage I know best, the one who can take a pile of problems and start sorting them into things we can actually deal with. Mars moves closer and listens without interrupting.

I turn toward Torrin. He's looking at the soldiers, but I can tell he's not really seeing them, so I slide my arms around his waist. His attention drops to me immediately.

"I'm sorry you had to do that."

His arms come around me. "I just forced a grieving man not to react the way he wanted to."

"You stopped him from grabbing a gun."

"I also told him how he's allowed to respond to his friend's death."

I can't argue with that. The power is frightening. Not Torrin. The power. There's a difference, and I need him to know I understand it.

I tip my head back until he looks at me. "You didn't make him happy about it. You didn't make him forgive us. You stopped him from shooting somebody while he was angry."

He shakes his head, but I push on.

"And none of this started with you," I add. "Your father is the one who used this on them first."

His eyes move away, so I put my hand against his cheek and turn his face back toward mine. "Listen to me. Whatever Colonel Ashford has done belongs to him. Being his son doesn't make any part of it yours."

He looks at me for a long time, then nods once. His mouth presses against my forehead and stays there for several seconds.

"I missed you so much, love."

Torrin draws me closer. "Every hour I couldn't reach anyone, every kilometer getting back here, I kept thinking I'd arrive and..." He doesn't finish; he doesn't need to. My throat tightens as I look up at him.

There's something different in the way he's watching me. Torrin has always been easy for me. Familiar. Safe. The guy who can make me laugh when I'm pissed off and drag me out of my own head when I start thinking too much. This doesn't feel like that.