Page 19

But right then, I didn't see that man. I saw a man who meant well, who wanted to help instead of hurt. It didn't make sense. It was as if he was two different people, an angel and a demon living in one body.

Was that possible? Was there a way for someone to be both?

How can you kill and give life? Who was he and what the hell was his purpose on this earth?

I have to decide for myself what this man is, if he's good or bad, if he means well or wants to do harm.

In my heart, I believed he didn't really want to hurt me, regardless of what he had done. In my heart, I trusted him. There was no way for me to explain why or how I could feel such things. It was crazy, it was beyond fucking stupid for me to see any good in him, and yet I did.

What is wrong with me?

I can't trust him, why would I even think I could?

Because right now I don't have a choice.

“So, have I earned your name at least? Will you give me that?”

Thinning his lips, his eyes glazed in thought. There was a long pause before he spoke, his hard glare burrowing into mine as his hand tightened around my palm. “Porter, my name's Porter. Now come on, we have a long walk ahead of us.”

Lifting me to my feet, I grunted and groaned as my chest ached and cracked with each move I made. Hunching over, his fingers braided in mine, arm protectively cradling my back, making sure I didn't fall.

“I know you said you don't care, but my name is Emery.”

A loud bang rang out from the car, causing both of us to jerk our heads up. There was a faint flicker of orange under the hood, followed by another giant pop.

Porter took a firm step backwards, tugging me closer to his chest. We both stood stagnant, watching the flame as it traveled across the front of the hood like a snake.

In one quick burst, the flames exploded in a giant funnel of fire, blasting pieces of the car into the air. Throwing his arms around my body, he cradled me, using himself to protect me from any falling debris.

As the inferno fizzled into normal flames, Porter lifted himself back up, and we both watched the car, mesmerized by the orange and red tassels dancing against the black backdrop.

The entire vehicle was burning, hot glass was crackling, the seats sizzling and melting into liquid. And as I stared at where I had just been laying, watching the same spot that I had almost gone to sleep in turn to ash, I was grateful for what Porter had done for me.

Looking up at him, his eyes were sparkling, the reflection of the fire bold and strong in his pupils. His skin was glowing, creating hard and soft angles. I was awestruck, finding beauty in the beast beside me.

“Thank you, Porter.” Managing a faint smile, I lifted my hand to his chest and touched him.

That single touch, it sent shivers racing down my spine. Our eyes connected, and I was pretty sure he felt it too. His chest jumped, a small hiccup of movement that brushed my fingertips.

I wasn't sure how truthful he had been with me before when he said he didn't have feelings. Because right then he felt something, what it was, I didn't have a clue. But if he truly felt nothing, then his body wouldn't have reacted the way it did.

Something happened between us at that moment, a connection that could only be made when two people survive together. We shared that, we shared the feeling of new life.

Clearing his throat, he adjusted his arm, moving it lower. “Yeah, well, save your thank yous for someone who deserves it.”

“You don't think you deserve a thank you for saving me?”

“I deserve a lot of things for some of the shit I've done. But a thank you—no, not a chance in hell.” Taking the first step, he guided me forward, walking us around the smoking and mangled car. “Besides, this shit ain't over yet. Don't thank me for saving you when I still don't know what's going to happen or how this will end.”

“It doesn't matter, you saved me, that means something. Whether you like it or not, I'm grateful for what you did.”

Looking at the wreckage, seeing what we had just lived through, it gave me a sliver of hope. If the heavens had wanted to save me from whatever this man might do, it could have just taken my life right then.

But it didn't.

I was allowed to live. I was allowed to have another day, another sunrise, another chance to keep going. . . We both were, and Porter had been the reason for that.

That had to mean something.