Page 130 of Fractured Loyalties
Especially not now.
He shifts behind me. Just slightly. His breath grazes the nape of my neck, and his arm tightens across my middle.
Awake.
He doesn’t say anything. Neither do I.
Not at first.
Then: “I thought you didn’t sleep like the dead.”
His voice is rough. “I do. When I’m not in enemy territory.”
That makes my brow furrow. “You’re really confident this place is safe?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just buries his face in the curve of my neck and exhales like the smell of my skin is more important than words.
Then: “Safe isn’t a place anymore. It’s a person.”
The way he says it—low, firm, certain—hits something sharp in me. I close my eyes. Swallow. Let the silence settle between us again until my voice sounds like it belongs to someone steadier than I feel.
“You mean you.”
He kisses my shoulder once. “I mean you.”
I roll over to face him. His hand shifts with the movement. From my stomach to my waist, then lower across my back. Possessive, even in stillness.
Our faces are too close. My mouth aches from last night. My eyes sting like I cried in my sleep, even though I didn’t.
“You should’ve told me,” I say. “About everything that you are, every little detail.”
He looks at me like the words hurt. Not because they’re wrong. But because he knows they’re right.
“I didn’t want to pull you into it.”
“You didn’t pull me into anything,” I say. “I was already here. I’m just done pretending I’m not.”
His fingers flex against me. Not to hurt. Just to feel.
“You don’t have to stay,” he says.
“Yes, I do.”
We don’t blink. Don’t breathe.
Just stare.
Because what’s between us now isn’t lust. Isn’t tension. It’s tethered. Anchored. And neither of us knows what it’ll look like when the storm hits.
He finally pulls back, sits up. The blanket falls away, baring the tattoos that crawl over his spine like warning signs.His body is beautiful in that brutal way—scarred, cut, coiled with violence held just beneath the skin.
I watch him rise. Stretch. Crack his neck.
He’s not a lover right now.
He’s a weapon.
And I’m not sure if I’m the trigger or the safety.
