Page 25 of His Asset

But he was already peeling the wrapping away.

He froze as he uncovered the skin beneath.It was close to perfect, soft and pink, with no sign of the previous bright red blisters.I swallowed hard.I didn’t need to be a scientist to know his thoughts.The burn looked to have healed a week ago, not overnight.

Reuben looked up at me like he was seeing someone new.“What the hell?”His voice wasn’t angry, just stunned.

I gave a small, tired shrug.“I heal fast.”

He stared another second, then shook his head like he didn’t quite believe what he’d seen but knew better than to argue.“Fast is an understatement.”His gaze lingered for a beat longer before he stood with a grunt, flexing his fingers.The shower hadn’t stopped the blood leaking across his grazed knuckles.“Still so full of secrets,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

“And you’re still bleeding,” I said, nodding at his hands.

He tilted his head with a half-smirk, then snorted as he rubbed at his jaw.“You should have seen me before my shower.Oh, wait, you did!”

His purple robe slipped from his shoulders, hanging open.His skin was mottled with bruises and scuffed cuts.Despite myself, my eyes traced the dark marks, the rawness beneath the tough facade.He was still human, vulnerable in ways I hadn’t expected.

He caught my glance and smirked, wincing as he moved.“It looks worse than it feels.”

“If you need help—“

I stopped and looked away, reminding myself that I wasn’t here to care for him, he’d been getting by without me just fine.

“A few wounds doesn’t make a person weak,” he said quietly, his voice rough but steady.“Not where I come from.”

I met his gaze.“No.But belonging to someone does.”I lifted my chin.“I’m not yours to keep.”

“Not yet.”His smile flickered, just for a second, before weariness settled back over his face, the shadow of fight still lingering.“There is strength in unity.

His gown flowed around him as he stalked into the kitchen, then filled a glass with water.The symbol of Chief was still there, but the man beneath was bruised and all too real.Despite the control he wielded, I saw the cracks.

He wasn’t invincible.

I turned away, my heart tightening.One week.That’s all I owed him after he’d saved me from those men, from Adam, too.After that, I’d be free.

I shook off the thought as I pulled off my remaining boot, then stepped into the bathroom and stripped off my clothes.The hot water hit my skin a moment later, washing away the sweat, the smoke, the heavy stink of the fight that still clung to me.

If only it could wash away the rest of my past traumas.

Toweling myself dry, I pulled on an oversized T-shirt from Mimi.It was soft and worn in, with a faded skull printed across the front.At least it was better than Reuben’s clothes.Wearing something of his would have drawn me even closer into his world, and I wasn’t ready for that.

I caught my reflection in the square mirror.Blue eyes stared back, glinting fiercely.I smiled.I wasn’t giving up anytime soon.Knotting my hair on top of my head, I cracked open the bathroom door.

Reuben’s cooking simmered faintly from the kitchen, the smell of something spicy, warm and vaguely familiar drifting toward me, making my stomach growl.

I sat next to Reuben at the kitchen island.He’d taken off his fighter’s robe and wore gray sweats with a soft white T-shirt.I was too hungry to appreciate his casual dress code or the fact he waited for me before eating.

I picked up my fork as I mumbled “Thanks,” then ate like it was my last meal.When I finally pushed the bowl away, I didn’t apologize for the inelegant little burp that came out of nowhere.I was done excusing my existence.I looked up at him, noting how little he ate or how his eyes didn’t stray far from me.

I managed a smile.“You really are a good cook.”

He chuckled, but there was something inflexible behind his eyes.“Thank you.”His humor faded and his voice lowered.“Are you all right?”

Shouldn’t I be asking him that?I shrugged, avoiding his gaze.“I’m fine.”

He didn’t press, but the silence stretched until he finally asked, softer this time, “Are you sure?You’ve been quiet since we got back.”

I swallowed, my words caught somewhere between truth and deflection.“I’m just tired.”

Tired of being a prisoner.Tired of running.Tired of the memories that refused to fade.Adam’s face still haunted the edges of my mind, sharp as a blade.