Rules of Survival(35)

I held my breath as his fingers skimmed up my forearm, his touch feathery light as he slid the cuffs up and away from my bruised wrist. He ran his index finger along the edge of the bruise line, making a low noise in the back of his throat. It was a cross between a growl and a sigh, and it did strange things to my stomach. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Not your fault,” I said, keeping my gaze on my wrist. If I picked up my head, we’d be eye to eye. For some reason, that scared the shit out of me.

But Shaun was determined. With his uncuffed hand, he lifted my chin. “It is my fault—and I’m sorry. I’ve been careless. Rough. I’ll try to be more careful…”

I couldn’t respond. The green flecks in his eyes stood out from the rest, casting a spell that made it impossible to look away. I waited for him to make a remark about me ogling him, or comment on how his perfection had stunned me speechless—because that would have made this easier. But he stayed quiet. Just staring at me like I was at him.

It was up to me. I cleared my throat and managed to tear my gaze from his. I leaned back a little, too. Being so close to him was mucking up my brain. “So, why did you defile the hoodie?” I nodded to his injured arm. “Didn’t it suffer enough?”

“This won’t solve the problem, but it might help.” He wrapped the sleeve portion fleece-side down around my wrist, then slid the cuff over top of it, all without taking his eyes from mine.

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. The inside of my mouth was as dry as the desert. And my heart? If it beat any faster, I was likely to have a heart attack.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows knitted in concern. “Too tight?”

“I—no, it’s—” I sucked in a deep breath and fought the stinging in my eyes. “No one’s ever done that for me…”

He blinked, then broke into a crooked grin. “You mean wrapped your arm in a stolen hoodie?”

“Taken care of me.” There. I’d said it. Out loud. I wanted to die, but I’d said it out loud.

He seemed confused. I was, too, because he didn’t move away. In fact, I was certain he actually moved a little closer. Close enough that there was no way he didn’t hear my heart thundering inside my chest. “But your mother—”

“Loved me,” I confirmed, swallowing. “With her heart and soul. But she was a survivor. She taught me to be a survivor. Do it yourself because no one else is going to do it for you. That was one of her rules. If I fell and scraped my knee, I picked myself off the floor, bandaged it up, and moved on. Mom wasn’t the coddling type.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

Even though that was how I’d been raised, a large part of me—a part buried deep inside—wanted to agree with him. Instead, I simply smiled.

He was still so close. I smelled the woods on him, but there was something else. A spicy scent that tickled my nose and made my body hum in anticipation. All I could think about was what it’d be like to kiss him. So I did something rash. For the very first time, I acted without thinking or planning.

I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

I’d caught him off guard—I could tell—but after a moment, he recovered, lips parting in a devastating grin. He brought his face to mine, stopping just shy of touching, and whispered, “Your aim is a little off. I think you meant to get me several inches to the right.”

My heart stopped. He stayed where he was, and I was sure he’d push forward that last fraction of an inch and kiss me. Really kiss me. I wanted him to. Friends, relationships—sex—they were all ideas I’d never even entertained. In the back of my mind, I’d been sure one day I’d find a way to live free, and that there would be plenty of time to experience it all. Now I wasn’t so sure.

But he didn’t do it. He didn’t move away, though, either.

“Shaun, I…” I wanted to say more—not that I was sure what—but nothing would come out. It was like my thundering heart and racing pulse had taken over all facets of my being, making independent thought and motion impossible.

In that moment, I wanted to know—had to know—what kissing him would be like. I’d had some truly terrifying moments in my life, but nothing compared to this. To the thought of pressing forward and simply touching my lips to his. An act that sounded so simple, yet incited such an electric feeling. But my chance came and went.

“We should get moving,” Shaun murmured. He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, pulled away and jumped from the counter. Taking my hand, he threaded his fingers through mine and lightly tugged me from the edge.

…

“We need a plan,” I said, kicking at a small white pebble. It bounced across the road before skittering into a storm drain. We’d slipped out the back door of the feed store and had been making our way through the woods, parallel to the road. It was still dark—I had no idea how long we’d been down in Gerald’s panic room—but there were no cars on the road.

“I thought the plan was to find out who this Mick guy is? See if he’s connected to your Mom’s death in any way…”

“We know he’s not the one after me. Gerald said Jaffe was paying him. But if Mick was one of my mom’s partners, maybe he can help us. He might know something. So, yeah. We need to find him, but we need a plan to do that.”