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My nerves jitter fora multitude of reasons, and it's not just from the chilly air. After driving away from The Serpents, Scarlette’s words and Eve’s reaction flood my mind to the point of worry. I wanted to tell Ronan that I think we should keep things how they were, no feeling attached, nothing serious. It was right on my tongue when he asked if I was okay, as if he could sense my hesitation or reluctance toward him. But then he looked me in the eye, and I became lost in them once again, and I was torn between my lust for him and what my heart was telling me. Or possibly, my mind, because my heart doesn't work properly for shit. It thunders like lightning striking the ground when he’s near me or touches me.
Especiallywhen he touches me.
I almost told him, but I didn't, because I knew it would ruin the mood, possibly the mission, and we need to be clear headed to successfully conquer this.
By the time we arrive, I am finished with my two cornrow braids. Ronan parks the truck off toward the edge of a hill that has a clear, dirt road. I smooth my hand down my hair, instinctively glancing around at my surroundings. Above the hill, I take notice of a large building that resembles a warehouse, standing out awkwardly in the midst of towering inky trees. The lights are dim on the lower level, and the top level is darker. My heart jumps in excitement.
The kids.
Ronan unsnaps his seatbelt and prepares himself by putting on his gloves and grabbing his gear from the back seat. He passes me a pair of fingerless black gloves, and I place them on.
Tonight is such a different kind of night. Tonight is a time that, not only am I stepping out of my element, but I’m anxious and ready to bring these kids back to safety.
I’m just afraid I’ll fuck it up. What if I grab a kid too hard? What if I’m not gentle and calm? What if a bomb explodes as soon as I touch them?
“Hey.” Ronan’s deep voice brings me back from swallowing myself into my own dark tunnel.
I turn my head to look at him, rubbing my hand over my pants. He doesn't need to click on the car light for me to see his beautiful, encouraging gaze. The ones that make me feel calmer, like a low tide brushing onto the sand. My racing thoughts and questions ease away.
He claps my right hand into his large-gloved ones, and he places our joined hands on the middle console. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
I answered that too quickly, similar to when Scarlette asked. Trusting people and their intentions were always my downfall. My father taught me that.The only person you should trust is yourself. Don't even trust me.And that’s what I did.
Now, looking at Ronan and seeing the care in his eyes and the softness in his gaze it strikes fear in my soul, but I still melt into it. Even if he doesn't trustme.
You need to tell him you’re not staying.
“I trust you,” he says.
My breath catches, and goosebumps flare on my skin. I blink as my heart flutters like butterflies flying freely in the sky. “You—” I swallow, my eyes drifting to our clasped hands, then back to him. “You trust me?”
“With my life.”
My lips curl in a shaky smile, pressure building at the back of my eyes, but I blink it away. I don’t know why those three words mean everything to me, but they do. I think subconsciously, this whole time I’ve been wanting to prove that he can trust me, even when I told myself over and over how much I don't care about any of this. Only the mission.
But it stopped being about the mission a long time ago.
He runs his thumb over my cheeks and lips softly. I nod and close my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief when I should be upset that he does. It’ll make it even harder to leave.
“I trust you, Anita, and I know your fears about this mission. I understand. Don't think too much. Just follow my lead, and you’ll catch on with ease. Soon you'll be running your own operation without my help.”
My chest tightens, and suddenly, I feel like shit because this is very much like leading someone on. The thought of seeing his reaction when I tell him there will be no operations will...break me.
Instead of telling him, I look away, still holding his hand. Ronan cups my chin, the material rough on my skin. I look at him again, and he searches my face.
His thumb grazes over my glove. “We’ll save those kids?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“We’ll make it out?”
“Yes, of course.”
“We get Victor.” His words become thicker with simmering rage.