Page 15 of Veil of Ashes

He nods.

I head for the bar’s back door, boots scuffing the ground. He follows. Inside, the place is a wreck.

Stools lie tipped over. Bottles roll across the floor from last night. I lock the door, then move to the storage room.

A first-aid kit waits there, along with a sink. Kieran stays behind me, steps quiet. I drop my pack on the counter.

I pull off my shirt. The fabric sticks to the gash, and I wince. The mirror shows it, red and messy, but not fatal.

Kieran moves closer. I stiffen, catching his eyes in the reflection.

“You sure about this?” I ask.

“Quiet and stay still,” he says, reaching for the kit.

I swallow a reply as he opens a gauze pack. His fingers touch my skin, steady and sure. A jolt runs through me, hot and sudden.

I stare at the sink, its chipped edges, forcing my focus there. Not on him. “You’ve done this before,” I say, keeping it flat.

“Plenty of times.” He presses the gauze down. I suck in a breath at the sting. “Hold it.”

I press my hand over it. He grabs tape, moving quick.

His fingers brush me again as he secures it. I watch him in the mirror. The way he focuses, the lines of his face.

Too close. Too real.

“Stop looking,” he says, eyes still on the wound.

“Stop making it easy,” I snap back. He pauses for a beat, then finishes the tape.

He steps back, and the air shifts, thick with something I can’t name. I turn to face him, gauze taped tight.

“Thanks,” I say, meeting his gaze.

“Don’t worry about it.” His eyes hold mine, steady and piercing.

My chest tightens again. I want to move, to do something, but I don’t. The fight replays in my head.

That guy’s voice, saying my name. Rizzi’s shadow growing longer. I’m tired, bone-deep, but every hit makes me feel sharper, more alive.

It’s pulling me back to the old me, the one I swore I’d bury.

Kieran shifts, breaking the moment. “You good?”

“For now,” I say, voice steadying. “But this isn’t over.”

He nods, like he gets it.

Maybe he does. The wound stings under the gauze, a reminder. I don’t just want to fight back anymore.

I want to tear it all down. Rizzi, his cartel, the whole damn machine. It’s a thought that’s been growing.

Tonight, it takes root. I grab my pack, slinging it over my shoulder again. “Let’s get out of here.”

He follows me to the door. I don’t look back at the sink, the blood, the mess.

There’s more coming. I feel it.

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