Page 46 of Veil of Smoke

Because I’m done being prey.

When we reach the van, he opens the back and pulls out a small first-aid kit.

I force him to sit. He watches me as I disinfect the wound, as I thread the needle. I haven’t done this before, but I’ve watched enough ER dramas and stitched enough floral foam to know tension and threading.

He winces only once.

“Not bad,” he says.

I don’t smile.

I press a clean bandage into place and tape it.

Then I sit beside him.

His breath is steady now. He watches me for a long time before speaking.

“You don’t look like someone who’s falling apart.”

“I’m not.”

“You didn’t scream.”

“You taught me not to.”

His mouth lifts at the corner, but it’s not a smirk. More like... respect.

I rest my head against the cold metal wall of the van. He sits with his elbows on his knees, fingers laced, watching the sky.

“What happens now?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away.

Finally, he says, “You decide.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re not just reacting anymore. You’ve stepped in. You’re in this now. I can’t pull you out, and I won’t lie and say I’ll keep you clean.”

I nod.

“Then I stay,” I say.

“You sure?”

I turn to him.

“I killed for this. I bled for this. I’m not walking away.”

His jaw flexes, but he nods once. Approval, quiet and hard-earned.

We sit in silence for a long time.

Then he speaks again.

“We take out the drop. We sabotage the shipment Corradino’s expecting. We make him bleed where it hurts.”

“And then?” I ask.

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