Page 45 of Blaze
Kennedy’s eyes go wide with my vow, her lips curled inwards as she bites them. Her heart picks up speed, and I want to kiss her until she thinks of nothing but me.
She holds out her injured hand for my inspection. “I don’t think it needs a bandage. I was more scared than anything, I think.”
Kennedy may well have emptied my gun into my chest with her admission. I swallow back the shame and exert control over myself. I’ve failed her once; I will not fail her again.
“May I?” I hold out my hand, waiting. Giving her the choice. I will always give her the choice.
She hesitates, but I don’t let myself react. Then she offers me her injured hand and, fortunately, doesn’t flinch when I gently wrap her wrist with my fingers. I move her hand, inspecting every inch, even the skin between her fingers and under her nails. A rush of breath leaves me as I confirm what she thinks is true.
“Nothing more than a minor sunburn,” I say, releasing her hand even if it’s the last thing I want to do. “It should heal up by tomorrow, even without any burn cream.”
She nods, pulling her hand back. She then deftly steps around me and back into the bedroom. After a beat, I rise and follow her. I find her sitting on the end of the bed, her shoulders square and her face directed towards the opposite wall.
Rarely do I ever feel fear, but it’s what I feel when I cross to the middle of the room. I come to standstill in the middle between her and the still-open bedroom door. I grind my teeth, forcing the fear to turn to anger. Not at her, though. At myself, at her bastard of an ex, at my father.
A bitter laugh escapes me, and I feel the weight of her gaze. I cock my head and meet her shuttered stare. “I told you that you wouldn’t want to be next to me if you saw the real me.”
She swallows, my eyes catching on the dip and rise of her throat. “You were right,” her voice is soft but as cutting as a blade. “I think it’s best I get ready to leave.”
I struggle against the snarl threatening to curl my lip. Instead of letting my now rampant emotions reign with chaos in my body, I lock it all down. I wrap my heart in the steel cages my father taught me to weld until I became nothing more than the perfect demonic soldier he wanted.
“Fine,” I tell my mate, my voice cold. “Stay here until someone comes for you.”
I stride from the bedroom, away from Kennedy. She is my mate, but it will always be her choice. As for me, I vowed to destroy Enzo Pastori, and I will uphold that vow.
16
KENNEDY
My heart hurts enough that I have to rub circles on my chest. I will never forget the pain in Blaze’s eyes after I told him he was right and that I never wanted to be near him again.
Yes, his demon form had scared me. But it was only for a moment. He’d shook me free of him and roared. When he faced me, all I saw at first was an emaciated skull covered in flames. What human wouldn’t be afraid of that in the moment? Then the fear was gone, because he may have looked terrifying, but he was still Blaze. My Blaze.
And now I’ve rejected him.
I remind myself that it’s the right thing to do. I need to leave—tonight. That way Blaze will be safe from Enzo and these Light Justicars. Sydney and Lacy will be safe, too. All of them will be.
It’s not just selfishness or wanting to stay in Devil’s Haven that makes me hesitate. I’m also thinking about what I heard Blaze and Bones talking about. I know Blaze has been with other women. I can’t risk us being another game to him, especially not when I know what the consequences will be if Enzo finds out.
It would crush me when Blaze finally grows tired of me—and he eventually would. The fact remains that I’ve already fallen for him. Falling in love with him was easy. It was inevitable, I think, as soon as he took care of me and made me feel safe.
On top of that, the man has a body that could have been sculpted from stone and a way with words that could convince a saint to sin.
No. I need to leave, and I need to leave now. I’m used to being on the run. I’ve survived this long without Blaze. I can keep surviving.
I get up, determination settling my shaking bones, and go to the closet. I stored my large Kate Spade tote bag in Blaze’s closet, and I shake my head as I pull it back out. It’s just another sign I’ve grown too comfortable here. I need to always be prepared to run.
I shove my few outfits in after making sure the almost grand of cash I have left still remains in the pocket. It won’t last long, but I’ll make it work.
When my scant clothes are in the bag, I stare at Blaze’s shirts hanging in the closet. I hesitate, then grab one and stuff it under my own clothes. This way, I’ll always have a piece of him.
Next, I check the room for anything else of mine I need to take. The sheets and blankets are still tangled from when Blaze woke me up this morning, and a wave of heat hits me. If only I could go back to that.
But no. I shake myself, slinging the bag’s strap over my shoulder, then check that my wallet is still in the side pocket of the bag. My next move is the bathroom, where I make short work of packing my toothbrush and the small amount of makeup I have.
Nearly ready, I fortify myself with a breath and march to Blaze’s dresser. It’s tidier than when I first came, mostly because Blaze didn’t care if I cleaned it and I needed something to do.
I open the first drawer and take out the black, heavy handgun. It’s the same one I pulled on Blaze when I was broken down on the side of the road. After staring at the weapon in my hands for too long, I slide it into my bag.
