Page 167 of Buried in Blood

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“He’s not here. He’s with Dante. They’re moving Evelyn again. New safehouse.”

I close my eyes.

Good.

That gives me time.

She helps me to the couch. I sink into it like it might swallow me whole. My body aches in places I didn’t know could hurt. My soul feels splintered.

“I shot him,” I whisper. “I aimed for his head.”

Astra stiffens beside me. “Did you kill him?”

“No. Reese saved him.”

She exhales slowly. “Then we don’t have much time.”

“I couldn’t run far,” I say. “I needed to see you. I needed to know…”

Her eyes meet mine, sharp and glassy.

“…that I wasn’t alone.”

“You never were,” she says, voice trembling. “Even when you thought you were.”

My hands shake as I stare into them.

“I think he’s going to come for me. For everyone.”

“He already tried.”

A pause.

Then—quietly, carefully—

“You’re not staying, are you?”

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“Then let me help.”

“I don’t know how to let anyone help me anymore.”

She leans forward, grabbing my hand. “Then start small. Let me clean you up. Let me make you tea. Let me get you a fresh shirt that doesn’t smell like fear and gasoline.”

My throat tightens.

And I nod.

Because I don’t know how to be whole.

But maybe I can learn how to survive.

For now.

47

Damien

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