Page 226 of Micah
One of them looks at Sloane.
And that seals that asshole’s fate.
Sloane is crouched exactly where I left her.
Shaking.
Trying so hard not to.
I cross the room slowly this time.
No adrenaline.
No violence.
Just her.
A streak of someone else's blood marks her cheek.
My thumb brushes it away as gently as if she's made of blown glass.
“Princess.”
Her eyes fill immediately.
“You came.”
Confusion crosses my face.
“Of course I came.”
Like there had ever been another possibility.
Her knees finally give out.
I catch her before she can fall.
Again.
Always.
She folds against my chest, trembling.
I wrap both arms around her, turning my body so she's shielded from the wreckage surrounding us.
The room is almost silent now.
The only sounds left are dripping beer, shattered glass settling beneath heavy boots, and Sloane's breathing.
Short.
Uneven.
Each breath catches in her chest like she's fighting her own body for air.
My attention narrows until there's only her.
Everything else fades.
