Page 73 of After the Burn

I looked towards the sky.

Maybe a meteor would fall again and hit me directly. Or lightning would strike.

Anything.

Anything at all.

Lila wiped the tears from her face as she offered the men an explanation. “She thinks Taryn is her sister.”

Mace started laughing. “She’s fucked in the head.” He looked her up and down. “It’s a damn shame, too, cause that ass deserves to be tapped.”

“Fuck it,” I whispered to myself, prepared to drop my helpless act, when Wren broke in again.

“I think you’ve grown taller.” She smiled at me with affection, completely ignoring Mace.

Before I could comment, I heard Gideon’s voice carrying from somewhere inside the building.

“Taryn.”

“We’d better get in there,” Lila told me, all laughter forgotten.

“I’m coming with you,” Wren insisted, looking concerned. “Women disappear around here.”

“No,” I said firmly, not wanting her to suffer any more abuse.

“Yes,” she said just as firmly. “Gideon’s not a nice person.”

“She’ll be fine,” Harper told her gently. “I’m sure that if she needs you, her friend will let you know.”

Lila nodded. “I absolutely will. But you don’t have to worry; she’s tough.”

“My sister needs support,” Wren insisted.

“I need a restraining order,” I mumbled.

Harper made a choking sound that might’ve been laughter.

Wren looked horrified. “You don’t mean that.”

The worst part? She sounded genuinely wounded.

How was it I could ruin a man’s career without losing a wink of sleep, yet hurt this woman’s feelings and suddenly develop a conscience?

“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t believe those two words had come out of my mouth.

Immediately, her expression brightened. “I forgive you.”

The apocalypse had given me the infected, possessive men who’d suddenly decided to share me and, apparently, a long-lost sister I didn’t actually have.

What a time to be alive!

The courthouse doors opened again, and this time Gideon himself stepped out. The conversation died almost immediately.

Gideon wasn’t physically imposing like my guys, Mace, and Gage, but something about him made people instinctively pay attention. He adjusted the cuffs of his dark button-down as he descended the steps, his expression unreadable.

His gaze swept across the group once.

Clinical and assessing.