Page 82 of His to Burn

“Why don’t we?—”

The older man’s words were cut off by the blade that pierced his throat. Before he could even finish his sentence, he slumped down.

The others were shocked, and I took advantage of that.

I lunged toward the man closest to me, driving my other knife into his side, sure I hit his kidney. A split second later, I unholstered my gun and fired off two shots.

“Let’s go.”

I led Asia outside, and then locked the door. We took the long way back to the judge’s house. I watched it for about ten minutes. Then, once I was sure everything was clear, I led her back inside.

She didn’t say a word. But when the door clicked closed, she turned to face me.

“You killed them in cold blood.”

You killed them in cold blood.

The words ping-ponged around my brain, but for some reason, I couldn’t process them.

That was what she thought?

I studied her, really looking at her.

I’d done that for days.

I’d never admit it, and was grateful she never caught me, but staring at her face as she slept was the highlight of whatever my life was now.

When I looked at her like that, I saw peace.

Even before all this, when was the last time I experienced that?

I remembered being so proud and peaceful when I taught Evan to ride his bike. But other than that—I never had.

Seeing that peace on Asia’s face, knowing that I had a part in putting it there; knowing that I protected her from all the things that were happening had a dual effect. It made me that much invested in making sure that peace would always be there. And it made me proud of myself.

Another almost unprecedented feeling.

Sure, I took care of Evan, but that was whatI was supposed to do. It was the least that I owed him.

I’d been a superlative soldier, but it was that or end up a fucking lowlife like Carl Thorne—so there was no real choice.

I hadn’t poured everything into my career out of love, duty, or even honor; I was just running.

But this thing with Asia wasn’t any of that, and I had no frame of reference for it.

But those words, “You killed them in cold blood,” gutted me.

Maybe I overreacted.

I let my gaze caress her face, taking in features that were so new, yet so familiar.

She was as beautiful as ever.

In truth, I couldn’t imagine a scenario where she wouldn’t be—but those eyes, dark, probing, studying me… There was no warmth in them.

None of the humor that lit her up when I made her smile, or, more likely, when she laughed at one of her own jokes.

Those eyes, always so full of life, were blank now.