Page 16 of Glass Rose (Where Roses Rot #1)

“John’s been planning for this a long time.” I stay by the door, giving her space. “Might be the only person who isn’t surprised by what’s happening.”

“Besides Green Research.” She turns to face me. “They knew exactly what they were doing. That thing at dinner. What happened?”

Flashes of my earlier episode play in my mind—the lights, the pain, the feeling of being torn apart. I push it down, lock it away in the compartmentalized section of my brain where I keep the worst memories.

“Sensory overload.”

“Because of?—”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” I ruffle my hair. “I’ll go up to the office. ”

“Uh, yeah. Right.” She glances at the bed. “Which side do you prefer?”

I like that she’s not even questioning my presence, but kind of asking for it. “I’m okay with either.”

“Okay.” She takes a tentative step toward me. “Have fun at the nightwatch thingy.”

I could close the distance, pin her against that wall, finish what we started between the shelves, or at least tease her a little.

There’s still time till my shift.

The monster inside me growls its approval.

And it wins.

I prowl toward her, slow and deliberate.

Sofia backs up, pulse quickening with each step I take. Her calves hit the edge of the bed, and she tumbles backward with a small gasp, propping herself up on her elbows. “Gavin?”

“I love my name on your lips.” I plant my hands on either side of her, caging her between my arms. “Say it again.”

Her eyes darken, pupils expanding. “What are we doing, Gavin?”

“You’re the scientist.” My face is inches from hers. “Figure it out.”

She laughs, soft and breathy. “I’m not sure there’s a scientific explanation for… whatever this is.”

“Chemistry.” I brush my lips against hers in a feather-light kiss. She’s intoxicating. “Fucking chemistry.”

She yanks me down and seals her mouth over mine. Her kiss is aching, full of longing, nothing like the hesitant woman from before. She tastes like survival and hope and something I thought I’d never have again.

“Gavin,” she breathes against my lips.

“I’ll be back soon.” I give her one last lingering kiss before climbing off the bed. “Try not to miss me too much.”

Her eyes are half-lidded, her breathing uneven. “Don’t be too long.”

Fuck me. I want to stay. “Don’t wait up.” I move toward the door. “You need sleep.”

“I’ve slept enough today.” She sits up fully, drawing her knees to her chest. “Besides, I’m not sure I can. Every time I close my eyes, I see…”

She doesn’t finish, and she doesn’t need to. I know exactly what she sees.

“Try anyway.” I duck out and get up to the office. Otherwise, I won’t be able to leave.

A sliver of warm light escapes from the crack under the door, and I grip the handle to open it.

John sits in an office chair, cleaning his shotgun. “There’s coffee.” He points to the desk.

I take it, black and sweet. “Thanks.”

“So.” He sets the rifle aside. “You and the doctor. That a thing?”

“Complicated.” I lean against the desk, observing the security feeds. “Recent.”

“War makes strange bedfellows.”

He’s right.

What am I doing? Playing house in the apocalypse, pretending there’s something real between us when it’s just circumstance. Convenience. The end of the world has a way of making people cling to whatever warmth they can find.

I’ve seen it before in war zones. People who’d never look twice at each other suddenly become inseparable when death lurks around every corner.

Fear makes for strange bedfellows . Desperation, even stranger ones.

But that doesn’t stop me from wanting her. From imagining what it would be like if this were real. If we had met before all this, before Green Research turned me into something not quite human.

“System’s automated. Motion triggers an alert. Cameras on rotation.” He points to another shotgun propped against the wall. “That’s yours tonight. Twelve gauge, loaded with buckshot. Won’t stop a horde, but it’ll slow ‘em down.”

“Anything I should know about your setup? Blind spots? Weaknesses?”

“Smart.” John’s approval is gruff. “Southeast corner. Trees grew too close to the fence. Been meaning to clear ‘em back.”

The coffee burns my throat, wakes me up, as John explains the security system to me.

Yet, my mind drifts to Sofia. To the way she felt pressed against me, her eyes full of lust, her mouth demanding against mine. She’s messing with my head.

“Midnight. Time for me to get some shut-eye.” John hands me a walkie-talkie, its plastic worn smooth from years of handling. “Channel three if you need anything. Otherwise, wake Marcus at four.”

“Copy that.”

“Coffee in the thermos. Bathroom’s downstairs if nature calls.” He pauses at the door. “And Gavin? Don’t shoot at shadows. Ammo’s precious these days.”

He leaves me alone with the soft hum of computers and the blue glow of security monitors. I settle into the chair, feeling the springs protest beneath my weight. The warehouse spreads out below, visible through half-closed blinds.

Forty minutes go by.

The radio crackles with static when I check our agreed-upon frequency. Nothing but dead air. Like my team.

Too far away? Another frequency?

Movement on one of the monitors catches my eye. A figure emerging from the back rooms. Marcus. He glances around, checking if anyone’s watching, then makes his way toward the campers.

I adjust the blinds for a better view. What’s this sneaky bastard up to?

He better not?—

He pauses at Dr. Cho’s camper, hesitating before he knocks—so softly I can barely hear it from here. The door opens, her silhouette backlit from within, and she steps aside, letting him in.

Well, well. Apparently, the apocalypse is good for someone’s love life.

I turn back to the radio, switching through channels methodically. Static. More static. A burst of unintelligible words, then silence again.

“Hart. Reporting in. Anyone copy?” Nothing. “Respond.”

Static hisses back at me, mocking my efforts. I set the radio down, rubbing my eyes.

Please don’t be dead.