Page 82 of Ride the Sky

“I don’t cry.” Her voice is ragged.

I chuckle. “Of course, you don’t.”

I lay her back down in the pillows then grab a towel from the bathroom and wipe the sweat from her brow, her chest. Her tears are drying up, her breathing steady now.

“Fuck this leg,” Fallon hisses, adjusting herself. Her sleep shirt slips up, revealing nude panties, her trim stomach, long,lean legs covered in a violent tapestry of tattoos. A pang goes through me when I see her scars. One on her stomach, one on her thigh from her surgery.

I open her nightstand drawer, trying not to stare. “You need a pill?”

She grits her teeth, shakes her head. “No.”

Stubborn woman. She acts like she doesn’t need anyone while fighting every demon alone.

“Have it your way, then.” I move toward the door.

“Wyatt.” Her voice stops me. “Will you…will you stay with me?” she asks with a hint of defiance in her tone.

Stay. That one word has me on my knees.

I take a step toward her. “You sure?”

Her eyes blaze. “I asked, didn’t I?”

Before she can change her mind, I cross the room. I swear she isn’t breathing as I slip beneath the covers and gather her in my arms, pressing my front to her back.

“This is like old times, huh?” she murmurs.

It is. The dark. The dropped defenses. Fallon, soft, sweet for a fleeting time.

Fully awake now, fully hard, I sweep my mouth over the curve of her neck, her shoulder. “Yeah, it is. But it sure beats a cheap Vegas motel room.”

She laughs. “Don’t forget roach infested.” Then she warns, “No kissing.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

A lie. I’ve fantasized about kissing Fallon more than I care to admit. Cupping her face and pressing my lips to hers. The way her mouth tastes, sharp and sweet and of honey and whiskey. How I’d hold her and drink her up in the worst way.

I stroke a hand through her hair and ask, “Aiden again?”

“No. It was a nightmare, but it wasn’t about Aiden. It’s someone else,” she murmurs sleepily. “Someone else is trying to get me.”

I tuck her tighter against me. “No one will get you. No one will ever get you again.” I know what dark thing haunts Fallon’s soul. It haunts mine as well.

“I think it’s about my accident. But I don’t think it was an accident.”

I frown. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

She shakes her head, like she’s said too much, then says, “I don’t know. Just wishful thinking, I guess.”

She takes my hand, examining the scar on my knuckles. “What’s this from?”

When I hesitate, she rolls over to face me. “C’mon, you know all of mine.” She gestures at the silver scar on her jaw. “Barbwire.”

I swallow, say, “It’s from Gavin. That night.”

A quiet falls over us. She traces her tattooed fingers over the scar. “Do you regret it? Letting him die?”

“No.” My voice is soft. “I thought I would, but…it’s like a domino effect. Reese goes, Ford goes, then Davis, then Charlie, then me. I couldn’t let that happen.” Everything in me churns and twists, but I go on, my voice hardening. “I did it for my brother. I did it because I never got to beat the shit out of Aiden, and it seemed like the next best thing at the time.”

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