Page 2 of BounBound By Scars

She looked at me, utterly stunned. “What—”

Boom.

A muffled explosion tore through the command center, and I felt shards of the Bitch pepper my back.

Lying there, my heart hammering in my chest, I realized the narrow escape. Just seconds before, Amelia had been in the direct path of potential shrapnel. If I hadn’t acted…fuck.

The realization sent a cold shiver down my spine, mixed with a surge of relief.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice shaking with fear of what could have happened.

She nodded, her face pale, words lost to her. Just then, the fire alarm shrieked into life, slicing through the tension. I scrambled to my feet and extended a hand to Amelia, pulling her up. My eyes raked over her body, looking for any wounds or bleeding. I sighed with relief when I didn’t find any.

We moved to the desk where the remnants of the operation lay. The Bitch was obliterated, and my laptop was nothing more than a mangled heap of electronics. Clearly, the Bitch had a self-destruct mechanism.

“What the fuck just happened?” Zane bellowed as he stormed in.

“The Bitch blew up,” I yelled back, trying to be heard over the blaring alarm.

Zane surveyed the damage, his eyes narrowing at the destroyed laptop and the absence of the Bitch. “It’s completely gone?”

“You can scrape its pieces off my back?” I quipped, half-turning to show him the shrapnel wounds.

Amelia’s breath hitched, and her hand flew to the small of my back, her touch sending unexpected shivers across my skin.

Zane tapped his watch, and the fire alarm abruptly ceased its wailing. “Get cleaned up,” he instructed before turning his attention to salvaging the hard drive of my laptop. I wasn’t overly concerned about the destruction of the Bitch; I had anticipated some level of self-defense from it. Fortunately, I managed to upload all crucial data to the cloud before it went critical. We should be in the clear, data-wise.

Dylan and Zarek burst into the command center, their expressions thunderous. Logan and Sebastian were off recuperating from our recent operation against Garret Tyson, so the mood was already tense.

“It was the Bitch, not me,” I announced pre-emptively, holding up my hands as they approached.

“That’s my sister, you ass!” Dylan snapped, his eyes blazing.

From beside me, I heard Amelia’s stifled chuckle. “He’s talking about the Crazon device,you ass.”

Dylan’s scowl morphed into a grin. “It actually blew up?”

“Must’ve been programmed to self-destruct,” Zarek added, looking over the debris with a critical eye.

Meanwhile, Zane was deep in his task, picking through the remnants of my laptop like a surgeon. I knew he took every device casualty personally, treating his electronics like fragile babies.

I’m sorry, Zane. I’ll build you a new baby.

“Come on,” Amelia said, tugging at my hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Your back looks like shit.”

I couldn’t suppress a grin as I followed her to my room. When we got there, she rummaged through my closet for the first aid kit.

I peeled off my t-shirt, wincing slightly, and sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly conscious of the fact that Amelia would soon be touching my bare back. Even though she’d be wearing gloves, the thought made my heart race.

Fuck.

As I waited, trying to steady my ragged breathing, I barely registered any pain from the wounds themselves. But the anticipation of Amelia seeing my bloodied back filled me with a different kind of discomfort. I didn’t want her to see me like this, vulnerable and marked.

Then her touch came—gentle yet tentative on my upper back. “Lia,” I murmured involuntarily, barely above a whisper.

“Just hold still,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “This might hurt a bit. I need to get the shrapnel out.”

I nodded, and she went to work. She was deft with the tweezers, her movements sure and gentle. Each contact, every breath she took close to my skin, made my pulse spike.