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She’s still quiet, but I’m not done. I need to get this out.

“I was court-martialed. Discharged. Stripped of rank, honors, and record. They told me I was reckless. That I was a danger to those around me, and I couldn’t be trusted.”There’s a beat of silence. “If I had to do it again, I’d make the same call. Every damn time.”

“You saved people. That’s never the wrong choice.” Her voice is so soft.

I don’t realize how much I needed someone to say that until I feel my chest go tight, but that’s not the point of my story. I’m not here to make myself feel better. I’m here for her.

“But the truth is, I ruined the mission. Some people still died because of the choice I made, and I’ve never stopped blaming myself. I might never.”

A small, sad smile crosses her lips. I hate when she’s sad. “That’s not your fault, though.”

I reach over and grab her free hand, wrapping my fingers around hers while her other hand continues to find comfort in Luna’s warm fur. “Exactly, Autumn. It’s not your fault.”

A sob erupts from her, and she covers her mouth with her free hand. Luna immediately sits up, pressing closer against Autumn’s side and whining softly. I lean over, cup her jaw, and kiss her temple. She shudders once beneath my touch, and her scent of smoke and tears and something purely her, fills my lungs.

“I will be whatever you need me to be. Want to take out your anger? My abs can take it. Want to cry yourself to sleep? My arms are wide open. Want to scream and shout obscenities? My body is your literal verbal punching bag.”

Her hand falls away from her mouth, and she tilts her head up to look at me. Luna settles back down, but she keeps her head resting on Autumn’s thigh, those dark eyes still watchful. “Why are you so good to me?” she whispers. “You barely even know me.”

I lean down and brush my lips against hers, tasting the salt from her tears. “Don’t you know? I’m your guardian angel, and I never knew I was scouring the earth looking for you my whole life until I finally found you.”

Autumn is finallyasleep when I step away from the fire to check the perimeter. I’m a little paranoid now ever since I brought a group of rotters over for a slumber party. That’s not a mistake I intend to make again.

I guess it shouldn’t surprise me when I see Jace already there, leaning against the damaged car with his arms crossed, like he’s been expecting me. Somehow, he looks even more dangerous when he’s not ripping the car apart.

“You need something?” I ask.

He doesn’t look at me. He keeps staring at the same spot on the dirt by my feet. “We can’t stay here much longer. Every day we stay in the same place, not searching, is a day wasted. You’re all acting like you’ve already given up.”

“She needed time.”

“She needs her sister. Not pity and delusions.”

My hands fist by my sides. “Is that what you think I’m giving her?”

“I think you’re getting too close.”

My lip curls and I take a step forward. “And you’re not?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t need to. He’s not mad I’m getting too close. He’s jealous because I already am, and she’s letting me in. Maybe that scares him more than the rotters or fire or whatever the hell broke him before the world ever could.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, Jace. If anyone else had stepped in front of you while you were going to town with that crowbar, they would need stitches and probably a limb transplant. Stop pushing her away when she needs us now more than ever. Stop punishing her for your own issues.”

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t speak.

I tilt my head. “Jealousy looks good on you?—”

His fist makes contact with my jaw before I can finish thesentence. My head whips to the side and stars explode behind my eyes.

I stumble back a step, spitting blood. “Oh. So that’s where we’re going now. That’s fine. I’ve been aching for a good fight.”

Without bothering to wipe off the fresh blood on my skin, I swing. My fist slams into his ribs and I feel the air punch out of his lungs. He tackles me into the side of the car. Metal groans under our weight, and we slam to the ground, fists flying. I don’t think, don’t hesitate, and neither does he.

This isn’t about her anymore. It’s about everything else. Every loss. Every failure. Every scream we couldn’t quell.

Every time we watched her cry and knew we couldn’t fix it.

That’s something we both have in common. We save people. And when we can’t? Well, it breaks us.