My tongue slows it down, takes over, reminding him who I am. My hand slides to his jaw, gripping it just enough to make him feel the command in my touch.
He groans into my mouth, the sound wrecked, needy. His anger melts into something raw, more vulnerable.
“Breathe,” I whisper against his lips. “I’ve got you, Ryker. Let me take it.”
He shudders, his body trembling as he leans into me. The fight drains out of him with every slow drag of my lips on his. I kiss him deeply, thoroughly, until he’s not clawing at me anymore; he’s holding on.
“You two need to eat,” Knox calls from the kitchen.
Ryker breaks the kiss and steps back, eyes darting around like we’d been caught, but Knox never even looked this way.
“Sorry, Max, I-”
“Sorry for what?” I wink at him, nodding toward the kitchen.
We head in to find Knox at the counter. He’s cut up some fruit, scrambled eggs, and even boiled a few. The stove clicks off behind him; he must’ve found one of the gas tanks we stashed here before shit went south. Good to know they still work.
This place has no electricity, unlike the base. We’d planned to haul in a wind turbine and a battery setup, maybe even make it livable for longer… But that plan went up in smoke. Still, we’ve got candles. We’re surrounded by trees. If we need to, we’ll chop them down and make light the old way.
“Thanks,” Ryker mutters as he sits down.
“The tanks are full,” Knox says. “Should last about a week if it doesn’t rain. But we’ll need to boil the water before drinking.”
“I’ll handle that after we eat,” I say, nodding toward their shirts. “You two should clean up.”
They’re both drenched in blood. Most of it is Aspen’s. And seeing it still there, it twists in my gut.
Ryker breaks the silence. “Do you think Roman really killed Ethan?”
The question lingers like smoke.
I hear the regret, and so does Knox. He slams his fork down.
“Hey, Recon, don’t feel sorry for him,” he snaps. “He did this.Allof this.”
“I know…” Ryker keeps his gaze on the plate, shoulders tight.
I exhale, jaw clenched. “We can’t take Roman’s word. Not after what he’s done.”
Knox meets my eyes, something steely in his. “Then we plan like Ethan’s still alive. Just in case.”
A scream rips through the silence.
We’re running before we even register it, guns up, instincts on full alert as we storm into Aspen’s room ready to kill.
But she’s sleeping. Drenched in sweat, thrashing in the sheets.
“Fuck,” I growl through gritted teeth.
“She’s having a nightmare,” Knox mutters, already moving. He sits beside her, brushing damp hair from her face. “Go clean up. I’ll take first watch. Ryker, you’re next.”
Ryker nods silently and slips out.
I move closer, crouch by the bed, and press my palm to her forehead. “She’s burning up.”
“I know.” Knox pulls the blanket down. She’s in nothing but her underwear; he must’ve stripped her out of the blood-soaked clothes.
My eyes travel over her body, and my chest tightens. She looks so small like this. Fragile. Bruises bloom over her arms, shadows of violence etched into her skin. Her leg’s still caked in dried blood.
