Page 3 of Burn for Me

I clear my throat as her tongue darts out to catch a drop of rain on her lip. “Bringing her in now.”

“Goodwork,Sam,”he begins, but his words feel muted as her gaze catches mine. It pierces through as if she’s searchingfor a way to save me from my deepest, darkest demons. One day, she’ll realize there’s no salvation for a man like me—only damnation.

“I’llhavesomeonesettleherinafterourchat…”Caspian continues.

I shake my head, finally focusing on the light tower guiding me to the base entrance.

“No need. I can handle this one.”

I found her, so that means she's mine.

One

8-20-2024

Her life is mine to do with as I please.

-Sam

You know what's fucking infuriating?Bed rest. I spent a month in a small, dark room after getting shot, and I can only blame myself for being careless. Jasmine tried to visit, but I pushed her away. It's safer this way—she’s dangerous; just ask the wound on my side.

I'm probably overreacting since she didn't pull the trigger, but I'm annoyed that while I was bleeding out, everyone else washaving fun throwing knives and shooting guns. I’ll stick to that instead of admitting I'm just grumpy because she finally decided to leave me alone.

I grunt when someone bumps my arm, but my anger cools at the sight of flaming red hair and panicked grey eyes.

“Shit! Sorry, Sam!” Moe, Caspian's younger brother, yells while rushing into the main hall. I shake my head and shove a clenched fist into my pocket.

As Moe swings the door open, I immediately catch her scent. Stepping inside, I spot her stiffly settled at the front of the large mahogany conference table, her gaze averted and her toe digging into the ground—driving me insane.

After joining Depth, Jasmine quickly grasped the basics of army life. She’s skilled in hand-to-hand combat and has excellent aim with any firearm, though she often underperforms when being watched. It’s as if she’s trying to hide the fact she retains every bit of knowledge we give her. She neglects the basics by dressing improperly, delaying essential tasks, and arguing with superiors, including myself. You can't call her out on her falsified ditsy behavior because when her temper flares, she explodes like a bomb. Typically, such insubordination would lead to dismissal, but I refuse to let that happen.

Sharkie clears her throat, drawing my attention.

“Glad you could finally join us, Sam,” she says, her tone suggesting otherwise. With a cocked brow and a jerk of her head, she silently commands me to find a seat. Though she’s new, her higher rank makes me squeeze past the random soldiers scattered around.

“Shit, Sam!” Moe hisses as Iaccidentallybump his head with my elbow. His brother clears his throat, cutting him off before he can say more. The scent of Jasmine's fading shampoo is quickly overtaken by the sweat of the freshly trained troopers as I step further back into the room.

“Now that everyone is here let’s get started. We’ve been planning the merger of our task forces and the necessary steps for a smooth transition,” Sharkie begins. I pull a chair from the table to face her, adjusting myself so my legs don't feel cramped.

“First stop is America,” Sharkie muses, her brown ponytail swaying. I glance at Jasmine, but the recruit beside me sits up, blocking my view, so I kick the side of his chair. He moves with an aggravated groan that earns my narrow glare.

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Pouty recruit says, and I focus back on my elusive little devil.

No matter how much I search or what recognition software I use, I can't uncover anything about Jasmine. I try to gather info when she’s at my desk chatting over coffee or in the workout room while I'm releasing stress, but she always shuts down or flirts to change the subject. She's tempting enough that I’ve considered giving in—leaning in close or lightly touching her waist—but I always refrain from going further. I can't let myself get closer, no matter how much I want to. I have to trust her, but that feels impossible without knowing her.

“The original plan was to gather my remaining members when we hit American soil, but an issue was brought to our attention.” Sharkie waves her hand in frustration, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Things aren’t what they should be. There's talk of a random high society masquerade ball outside their usual annual event." Caspian straightens his broad shoulders, his green eyes scanning the room. He steps close to Jasmine before redirecting to Sharkie. I hate it when he gets near her.

“Especially since some mystery high bidder bought Bay's headquarters and equipment while we were distracted. Usually, select Bay members could monitor these situations, butclearly, that hasn’t happened.” Sharkie adds, gesturing to herself.

It's no coincidence that chaos struck while our factions were clashing. Now that we're united, it could spark even more disorder. My attention shifts to Jasmine, who is frozen and staring ahead.

“We have a mission to infiltrate the event. Once that's handled, we’ll move to the next territory.” Cas tilts his chin, exuding intimidation. Jasmine clears her throat, but he doesn’t acknowledge her.Good choice—fighting with your best friend gets old.

“I think I’d be better off here. Making sure nothing goes haywire while everyone’s gone,” Jasmine says, trying to appear nonchalant but failing. Her lighter tone contrasts with her sternness, leaving me wondering what changed while I was locked away. I usually know her every move from watching the cameras, but now she feels like a stranger. It frustrates me to think she’s been better off while I suffered alone. Of all times to obey, she chose now—when I needed her most.

“You’re. Going.” I snap instinctively. She doesn’t flinch at my tone, but her eye roll isn’t hard to miss.

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