Page 17 of His to Burn

“Yeah?” I practically grunted.

She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head like she was trying to solve a particularly stubborn problem.

“What’s your name?” she finally asked.

“Does it matter?” I responded.

Her full lips twisted into a smile again, but this one was genuine. It transformed her face, and again I was struck by her beauty, especially when her eyes lit up.

“No. I guess it doesn’t,” she said with a small shrug. “But would you humor me?”

“Jackson Thorne,” I said gruffly.

“Asia Newman,” she said, her smile still bright.

But her smile, that moment, was gone as quickly as it had come.

She crossed the messy room in two long strides and grabbed a pipe.

She held it tentatively, like she was more afraid it would hit her than she would hit anyone else. But I saw as her grip tightened and again couldn’t miss her resolve.

She locked her eyes with mine and then nodded.

“All right, Jackson Thorne, what’s the plan?”

I huffed and then confessed, “I haven’t gotten quite that far.”

That wasn’t the entire truth. Sure, I didn’t have a step by step plan but trusted my experience to guide me.

Asia didn’t have that to fall back on.

“If we’re lucky, whoever was trying to get into the elevator was an isolated thing, and we can calmly make our way out of here and let one of the guards know some psycho is upstairs,” I said.

She tilted her head and pursed her lips, her stance screamingyeah, right.“Sure, and we’ll find our way over the rainbow and click our heels to find our way home.” She shook her head. “I didn’t ask for a fairy tale, Jackson, I asked for a plan.”

I froze at the way my name rolled off her lips.

No one had called me that in years, and I’d all but forgotten the person that name hadbelonged to. But I kept those thoughts at bay. “No one’s called me Jackson since my middle school math teacher, and she sent me to detention,” I said.

Her smile was bright enough to light up the entire room. “I’m sure that detention was well deserved, and I think Jackson suits you.”

She was pressing her luck, but I shrugged it off. What she called me didn’t matter. I told myself she’d be less than a memory soon enough.

I gave a noncommittal grunt and then refocused.

“Don’t know what’s out there, so it’s hard to form a concrete plan, but you should get out of here and go home,” I said.

I hoped it would be that easy.

I knew it wouldn’t be.

“Where’s your car?” I asked.

She smiled again, not as brightly this time. “Believe it or not, I actually thought today was my lucky day. I got a spot right outside the front entrance, which isunheardof. Where are you parked?” she asked.

“Parking garage, bottom floor,” I said.

She nodded, but her expression dropped an increment.