Page 54 of His to Burn

A mob of zombies.

Asia freezing up, slowing me down.

At that thought, I reached out, exhaling when I made contact with her skin.

This fucking woman was going to be the death of me.

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice she’d stopped. I glanced back at her, ready to be pissed, when I saw the expression on her face.

There was fear, trepidation.

And maybe relief.

“The judge’s house is just up there on the right,” she said.

THIRTEEN

Asia

It took almostfour hours and what felt like a hundred lifetimes to make the walk to the judge’s house.

But we were finally here.

I pointed toward the street where the judge’s house lay, but Jack quickly grabbed my arm, squeezing it in a way that reminded me of how easily he could snap it if he chose.

He shook his head once, stone-faced.

Jesus.

How stupid.

Just because I didn’t see anyone didn’t mean that no one saw me.

I must have left my brain in that fucking elevator.

I grimaced, angry at myself, my arms still warm from his touch.

I’d screwed up all morning and that trend seemed poised to continue. It was moronic to tip someone off to our location and I had no real excuse. I glanced at Jack, trying to apologize with my eyes. He just shook his head again, then slid a sideways glance toward the house.

I squeezed his hand—one I didn’t even realize I’d reached for—hoping he understood.

He broke the contact, and I missed it, but there was no freaking way I would admit that.

Instead, I followed behind him as he quickly walked down the side street and deeper into the beautiful residential neighborhood.

The judge’s house was close to the city but was the last house on a dead end.

And, unlike new construction, the houses in the judge’s neighborhood sat on nice-sized lots and were backed by a nature preserve. The judge always bragged that the price of hisproperty would always go up because there were covenants in place to prevent future building.

I hoped that those covenants would work for me now. And that, if nothing else, the heavy tree coverage and deep ravine might give us some anonymity.

Jack moved slowly and deliberately as we crept through the neighborhood. I expected that. He warned me that we’d be cautious. But expecting it didn’t make this trek any less nerve-wracking, the fear somehow more intense the closer we got to the judge’s house.

But I pushed all that fear down and stayed alert, looking everywhere I possibly could for any signs of danger and somehow managed to be both relieved and unsettled when I saw nothing.

Then, finally—mercifully—we reached the judge’s house.

I’d always thought it beautiful with its classic brick construction and grand split staircase. But today, it looked like a tomb from some long-dead civilization.