Page 76 of Worshiping Faith

That’s it. I’m done.

She’s all tucked against me, warm and adorable, and I’m supposed to just… walk? Like a normal fucking person? Good luck with that.

We got all the bodies off, but there’s still blood in the cracks, the scent clinging to the steel. I keep her close, leading her through the corridors, showing her what she needs to know, not that she’ll ever be alone in this tin death trap. Not for a fucking heartbeat.

“I’m not sure how all this works,” she murmurs.

“Who the hell is?” I say, grinning down at her. “I happen to be a professional at winging it. Plans just fuck shit up.”

She huffs a breath, then, softer, too soft says, “I watched you. On the deck.”

I smirk. “Naughty girl.”

But she’s serious. I know that look.

I pull her in a little closer, trying to lighten her up. “We’re set here. No one will know the extent, but we’re good. For awhile, anyway. We even got little zoom-zooms in case you need something I can go get it.”

She stops dead in her tracks. Hands to her hips. Fuck, she’s hot when she’s about to yell at me. “The hell you will,” she snaps. “How about you just give me one fucking day where I don’t think I’m losing one of you?”

Oh.

She’s pissed.

And I, I fucking love it.

Like she does with Dax, like a goddamn challenge, she yells at me.

Not afraid. Not hesitant.

She demands I stay alive.

Sexy as fuck.

“Like I’d send you out for milk and bread?” she says. Her eyes burn into me. “Though. I have shit I need off the island. My personal stuff. And clothes. And birth control.”

Shit.

I don’t know why that knocks me back a step, when I see her worry and fit it together. She’s only got a month’s worth. “Don’t frown. If there isn’t any in the infirmary, I’ll zoom away and get you more.”

“You are not zooming anywhere,” she snaps.

“Fine,” I say with a smirk, leaning in. “We’ll make adorable, totally unhinged little savages.”

Her eyes flash, and, holy fuck, she punches me.

Dead in the chest.

I actually laugh, a full-bodied, real, honest-to-God laugh that shakes loose something inside me.

I love her.

I love her.

And I say it without thinking, ready to send her into a fit of laughter.

“I love you.”

She doesn’t laugh.