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His weight bears down on me, and the fingers of our hands interlace as he pins me down.
It’s almost like a sense memory, the way his fingers feel laced through mine. It’s not on purpose this time, but last night it was. He sat there with me, holding my hand while I shook and shivered under the covers, far away, drowning in bad memories.
Those icy blue eyes look down at me, and I stare up at him, the way I couldn’t last night.
And then, with a sudden rush of clarity, I realize that this washisidea.
Priest did this.
For me.
The thought freezes me in place, and I’m locked in his gaze. There are a million questions I want to ask, and I don’t even know where to start, but before I can so much as take another breath, the sound of shooting rings out over our heads and Knox and Ash come crashing through the trees, shooting at us.
