Page 75 of Burn Like An Angel

“So much dust.” Raine wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I can literally smell the ’70s grandma vibes in here.”

“I’d like to think ’70s grandmas had more style than this,” I reply distractedly. “Who buys an orange refrigerator?”

“If it meant I could see it, I’d take a neon-green kitchen. Count yourself lucky.”

“Buy a green kitchen, and I’ll disown you.”

“Well, that’s you uninvited from the housewarming,” Raine snarks.

“Thank fuck for that.”

“Pack it in,” Ripley snaps at us. “It’s a roof over our heads.”

Creaking footsteps interrupt our conversation. We all startle before Xander’s dirt-flecked face quickly appears in the doorway.

“Room for one more?” He sighs.

“Welcome to the five-star hotel,” Raine jokes.

Slapping a turquoise box down on the table, rattling the contents, Xander deposits his backpack next. He’s practically sagging with fatigue, still covered in dirt and grass stains from our escape.

“First aid kit.” He rubs his face tiredly. “There was a small shop in the office too. No CCTV cameras. They’re not concerned about security out here.”

“Anything good?” Raine folds up his stick.

“Some long-life cereals, a bag of peanuts, a few chocolate bars and a cheap bottle of whiskey.”

“That’s a gourmet dinner.” Ripley winces when she tries to laugh. “No pain relief?”

“Nothing.” Xander shakes his head.

“Then someone crack open that booze.”

“Hand it over,” I offer.

Xander passes me the backpack. “I’ll sort out the medical supplies.”

With my bandaged hand, I fumble with the zip until I get it unfastened and locate the sealed bottle inside. Once I’ve cracked the seal, Ripley immediately snatches it from me.

“Woah.” I pull the bottle back to stop her chugging. “You haven’t eaten or slept, and you nearly bled out. Go easy on the hard liquor.”

“Fuck off,” she retorts, reaching for the whiskey.

“Nice try.” I pull the bottle behind my back. “We agreed you wouldn’t die on my watch, remember?”

“I don’t remember that.” She grimaces, a pained whimper slipping past her gritted teeth. “My leg feels like it’s on fucking fire.”

Reluctantly handing her the bottle, I watch her take another few mouthfuls before I intervene again, managing to wrestle it back. She pins me with the stink eye, a red flush already creeping into her cheeks.

“We need to do this now.” Xander clicks open the first aid kit to search inside. “Bring Ripley here.”

One arm sliding around her waist, I decide to take advantage and lift her off the counter by her ass. “My bad.”

“Don’t use your mangled hand as an excuse to grope me,” she hisses out. “You’re still on my shit list.”

“Then I’m good to grope you, right? If I’m already on the shit list.”

“Good luck getting off it with that attitude.”

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