Page 25 of Burn the World Down

His arm whipped out and he hauled me back. He jostled my ribs and I let out a low cry.

His brows drew together. Then before I knew what he had planned, he pushed the hem of my hoodie up.

“Hey.” I tried to push his hands away.

He hissed in a breath.

I was well-aware that my ribs were still mottled with bruises. It wasn’t pretty.

“Who did this?” His voice cracked like a whip.

I stiffened, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. His tone was dark and filled with things that made my throat go dry.

“Georgie—”

“It’s a long story.”

His face hardened. “Then we’ll go somewhere and you can tell it to me.”

“I—”

He bent his knees, shifted his arms, then lifted me off my feet. I found myself in his arms.

By reflex, I clutched at his broad shoulders and then he was striding down the alley.

“Nash…” I swallowed. “You never came home.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I had my reasons.”

Which were stronger than the urge to come back. To come back to me.

A ball of hurt spun in my belly. It shouldn’t. We’d been little more than kids. But it did hurt. Thankfully, I’d gotten used to being hurt. I shoved it down low. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe.”

Nowhere was safe. I’d learned that lesson.

The monsters didn’t always hide in the dark. They lived in plain sight, and people applauded them for everything they did.

Soon we were out on the busy street. Some people glanced at us, but this was Las Vegas. No doubt they’d seen crazier stuff than a man carrying a woman.

I felt the flex of his hard muscles in his chest. He was so much bigger and harder than I remembered. What had happened to him over the last ten years?

There was no give in him at all.

I wasn’t surprised when he turned into the entrance of the Avernus Casino. Cars were pulling up, uniformed valets rushing out to open the doors.

He nodded at the security guard by the bronze front doors, then strode inside.

“Do you work here?” I asked.

Nash gave a low grunt, which wasn’t really an answer.

He crossed the black and bronze lobby. A classy, modern-looking, bronze Christmas tree sat in the center of the glossy black floor. He didn’t go near the long check-in desk, and instead headed to an elevator at the back. It wasn’t in the bank of the main ones for the guests. It was clearly designed for staff.

He juggled me to the side and pressed a hand to a high-tech looking pad. It made a low beep and the doors opened. As soon as we stepped inside, the elevator whizzed downward.

When the doors opened, he carried me down a dark hall, and then shouldered his way into a room. A bare room. The walls were dark gray, and the only things in the room were a table, a few chairs, and a shiny glass window. I assumed it was a one-way mirror.