Page 16 of Faron (The Golden Team #8)

Blue

I waited until I was alone.

Then I collapsed behind my desk like my bones had given up. I lay on the floor. My mind whirling wildly.

The linoleum was cold against my cheek. I didn’t care. My heart was pounding like it had something to prove.

Faron Lightfoot.

The boy I met in the desert, the man who made hell feel like home.

The one who broke me and held me together in the same breath.

I should hate him. I should send him packing.

Instead, I lay there with his scent still on my skin and whispered, “Idiot.”

Didn’t know if I meant him or me.

Probably both.

Eventually I got up, washed my face, and buried the pain like I always do — beneath a mask and a mission.

But as I pushed open the office door and walked back into chaos, one thing echoed in my chest like a drumbeat.

This time… it’s not just the patients I need to save.

It’s myself.

And God help me — maybe him too.