Page 42 of Burn for Me

“Women.” Jonathan’s voice is equally unclear, but you can sense the tension in his clenched teeth.

There’s a clap, but I can’t tell if it comes from one person or a sound made by two people agreeing. Sam turns, and my nose brushes against his chest as I look up, but he doesn’t glance down. Instead, he nudges my elbow and turns me until his hand rests on the small of my back.

He looks angry.

“Make sure she gets some rest. She looks a bit pale,” Casey calls out, causing me to duck my head toward my chest. Sam pauses but remains composed, guiding us out of the small club and into the restaurant until we reach the exit doors.

Sixteen

8-31-2024

I knew what I was doing.

-Sam

“Hello?”

“How long has it been?”

“Too long.”

Sharkie and Caspian's voices overlap, finally breaking through the static mixed with the screams begging to erupt in my mind. I glance down at Jasmine, who looks like she’s about to pass out inmy arms. Delilah holds her other arm, but I pull Jasmine closer to me.

I don’t want anyone else touching her, looking at her, or getting near her. She’s mine to protect, and I've failed.

“They're bringing our cars around,” Jonathan says as he smooths his suit and glances back at the restaurant.

I need to inform my superiors to get Moe so he can check for any bugs in our room; the interaction with the two babbling idiots isn’t sitting well in my stomach. Besides, it’ll give me a fucking reason to go back in there and beat them to a bloody pulp.

Mission. Focus on the mission. No. Fuck that.

I can’t when Jasmine leans more of her body weight into my side and clutches her arms around her abdomen. I should be praising her, cheering her on, and complimenting how incredibly well she caught onto something that none of us would typically be able to process in that time frame. Instead, I find myself silently praying to a God who has me blacklisted, hoping that he’ll keep her breathing.

“She needs rest to sleep it off,” Delilah hums in a whisper, seemingly unfazed by the circumstances.

“You think I don’t bloody know that?” I snap. Just then, our car pulls up. The boy is startled when I rip the passenger door open and help Jasmine into her seat.

“Easy,” Jonathan mutters, and I fight the urge to turn and punch him in the face repeatedly like I did the first time we met.

I brush a stray hair from her pale face, ensuring her seatbelt is secure. She gives a lopsided smile, but it does little to ease the tension tightening in my chest.

“She’ll be okay. She got an antidote. I’m sure she’ll be sluggish and a little delirious for a while, but it’s fine.” Jonathan says in a low whisper. His words make me slam the door shut and turn toward him quickly, our chests nearly touching.

Is he forgetting who he’s talking to? He may be a high-ranking soldier with a title more important than mine, but he’s not my superior. He should be more concerned when discussing her, considering she’s the only thing preventing me from reliving our littlemeeting, as he likes to call it.

“As soon as you're in the car, we need updates,” Caspian crackles through the radio, forcing me to calm my temper. I step back; I need Jonathan by my side to get through this as quickly as possible and bring her back home, where I know nothing will hurt her but me.

Jonathan raises an eyebrow, and I collect my thoughts before rounding the car.

“We’d love to see you both tomorrow night,” I say, hoping he will understand my implication. I want to prepare for whatever may come our way next. We have names; now we just need locations.

He nods in response, but I can’t dwell on it as I slide into the driver’s seat and screech away from the restaurant—my mind races, trying to create a schedule for everything I need to do.

“Update Sam,”Sharkie says calmly, replacing Caspian's voice.

No, I can't yet. Just give me a minute. I need to…

I flick my gaze to Jasmine as she leans back against the headrest, her lashes fluttering.

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