Page 59 of Burn for Me

“Where do I begin?” He laughs, and I smile. For the first time in a long while, I’m not thinking; I’m just numb. Soaked, for sure, but also blissfully blank.

Twenty

9-2-2024

I want to be wrong.

-Sam

Jasmine is curled against my chest, her palm resting flat against my skin. I carried her to bed hours ago, but I haven’t been able to sleep. This time, it's not my past keeping me awake; it's my present and all the new emotions she has awakened in me. I don't know how to process them or what to make of them, but I can feel my head pounding from the overwhelming rush of dopamine.

Fuck, she looked so broken on her knees, entirely at my mercy, as I rammed my cock down her throat. I almost expected her to tell me it was too much for one night—more than she could handle and not what she expected orwanted–but she didn’t. Instead, she clung to every deep-rooted, sick, and twisted part of me as if it were the last fire extinguisher in a burning building.

I revealed the darkest parts of myself to her. I let my demons dance in her mind and allowed myself to do something I didn’t think I was capable of anymore:feel.

I brush my fingers through her hair again, savoring how much softer it is than mine. It feeds my fixation on running my fingers through something when my thoughts become overwhelming.

After everything I went through in my childhood and the chaos that followed, I told myself I would never trust another soul. I proved myself wrong by trusting Caspian and then Moe, but I thought I would be forever trapped in the hell of being unable to do the same for her.

Yet again, I was mistaken because she isn't my damnation; she's my salvation. Whatever God is out there knew I wouldn’t change, so He sent a bad angel to my front door to give me a purpose.He gave me something to protect and fight for.

I reluctantly pull myself out from under the covers, knowing we only have one more day until the ball, and I still need to go through the files we stole. It shouldn’t take long, though. As I enter the living room, I grab my bag from the closet and rummage through it to tuck the papers into a folder. I notice the cameras in the corners, so if I hide the intel and lean the other way, it will seem like I’m only reading a business report.

My stomach growls, so I check the bedroom door to ensure Jasmine is still asleep. Confirming she’s out, I toss the file onto the counter and search the fridge for eggs. I know the room will be charged, but since it’s not my account, I don’t care. I refuse to go to another restaurant.

Once done, I quietly sneak back into the room with the plates. I swear the woman could sleep through a bloody raid with how sound she is, not even budging when I knock my knee into the bed frame with a few silent curses. Setting the plates on the nightstand, I slip back under the covers, rubbing my leg as she shifts beside me.

Noted. So, a fucking air strike is white noise, but a subtle shift can wake her.I roll my eyes at the thought. As if she senses it in her sleep and needs a way to push my buttons, she turns her back to me, pressing her arse right against my thigh.

I’m half tempted to say screw the mission just so I can fuck the sass out of her sleep, but the sooner we get this done, the sooner we go home.

With an aggravated groan, I open the folder and take a bite of my omelet. I know I have all the time in the world to do what I want with her, but that doesn’t make it any easier as I start the tedious reading. My thoughts drift to wondering what might wake her up first; my cock buried deep inside her or my hand tight around her throat, depriving her of air.

I furrow my brows and pause mid-bite. Each sheet contains small papers printed on regular printer paper, featuring neat, bold writing that conveys information similar to what I’ve memorized over the years. I drop my fork and quickly flip through the sheets, dated from the start of the Land and Sea War until they abruptly stop on May 15 of this year—the documents detail soldiers from various factions, including their ranks, mission logs, and family histories. Towards the end, the focus shifts to information about Depth members, but no matter how many times I scan through the notes, I can’t find any mention of myself or Jasmine.

Each little taunting, insufferable fucking piece of paper stares back at me. Mocking the thought of how much blackmail is written in the same meticulous, infuriating handwriting. If itfalls into the wrong hands, our way of life is done for.My home is gone.

Jasmine shifts with a groan, and I slam the notes shut, unable to look at them anymore. I can’t believe I missed someone spreading our society’s secrets. I typically monitor screens and memorize schedules but overlook the physical mailings.

This is my fault.

My breathing quickens as the logical side of my mind narrows down the suspects.The list isn’t long; only a handful of soldiers go to town, which reduces the possibilities to about five. Around three of them make trips to the local post. Two names are missing from my list.

Iknowit wasn’t me.

“Sam…” Jasmine whispers groggily, wrapping her arm around my waist as she pushes her nose into my side. I go stiff as a statue and hold my breath. I just need a moment to think—process my thoughts.

I need time to regain my composure.

I want more facts before panic or anger sets in, but the latter is slowly winning the longer I try to rationalize the idea that I may already have all the facts I need. I’m boiling in a way that aches and feels sickening, making my chest uncomfortable.

Jasmine's head snaps up, and her hooded gaze flicks over my features as if my sudden change in body language is a loud alarm. Sleep lines imprint her cheek, and the dried drool at the corner of her mouth makes me want to soften and pull her back in.

I haven’t even had the chance to savor her yet—to memorize the things no one else gets to see.

“Morning,” I grumble, pushing my thoughts aside as I try to ease the tension in my muscles.

“What’s—”

---