Page 35 of Burn Like An Angel

The amusement written across his face causes my teeth to grind in irritation. He can smirk all he likes. It won’t change the satisfaction that slitting his throat will give me.

“Why do you assume I would know?” he retorts.

My blood boils. “Did you enjoy carving those marks into her?”

Rick’s eyes flash with surprise. I knew Ripley wouldn’t admit who hurt her; she has too much pride for that. The truth was easy to pry out of Raine’s mouth, though.

“I’m far too busy cleaning up Ripley’s mess to follow her around like the rest of you.” His nose wrinkles in derision. “Look at you. Didn’t take much for her to wrap you around her finger.”

“What gave you that impression?”

He waves a hand over me, visibly dishevelled and sprawled out. “Not your best look.”

Teeth gritted, I climb to my feet. “Perhaps go have a shower before commenting on my appearance.”

I narrow my eyes at the male patient on Rick’s right side who is eyeing me like a piece of meat he’d happily pummel.

“You want to call your attack dog off?” I gesture to him.

“Oh, don’t mind him. He’s just… focused.” Rick casts his friend a smile. “We all want the same thing. You included.”

“And what’s that?”

“To see the institutes and Incendia burn,” the female patient supplies. “Starting with Harrowdean.”

Laughter rips out of me. “Why would I want that?”

All three of them gape, their silence punctuated by the loud chaos unfolding all around us. Anarchy has resumed, peppered with smashing glass and screeching.

“You think this means anything?” I gesture around at the people running wild. “This little rebellion of yours won’t last.”

“Is that what you want?” Rick’s lip curls. “You think Ripley will return to her seat of power once we’ve all been eliminated? Maybe she’ll toss you some scraps of attention, huh?”

“I have no interest in what Ripley does when this is all over.”

Lies.

Swallowing my tongue to keep my composure, I stand firm as he runs his disgusting eyes all over me. The black shirt I located is short-sleeved, revealing layers of shiny scar tissue that he openly peruses.

“I suppose I did her a favour,” he muses. “Her scars match yours now. You two freaks can compare notes.”

“You touched something that doesn’t belong to you,” I spit venomously, my hands balled into fists by my sides.

“No, I simply made sure she’ll never be able to forget what she did here.”

My brain misfires with the surge of scorching-hot anger that barrels through me. I find myself leaping into his personal space before my common sense comes back online.

We’re chest-to-chest with nothing but anger and violent threat trapped between us. All I see is red, causing my momentary calm to implode.

“For every mark you left on her skin, I’ll break one bone. Would you care to choose which?”

Whatever Rick reads in my expression causes him to falter. He looks around for support, but his new friends don’t jump to his rescue. Both look intrigued. Seems like loyalty only runs so deep.

“But… she—” he splutters.

“Never mind,” I interrupt.

“Wait!”

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