Page 162 of Specter Bred

I still got flashes during the day sometimes, brief moments when the past bled into the present before I could stop it, but even those felt different now, less consuming and easier to come back from.

Maybe it was her, or maybe it was the simple act of building something again instead of constantly surviving what had already been destroyed.

This new unit was starting to fill a space inside me I’d thought would stay torn open forever.

I took one last sip of my beer before setting it down for good. “Anyway, I’m going to write up the report. I’ll bring it by for your signature before I send it off to Command. But first, I’m going to get some shut-eye and check on Archer.”

“All right. Cutter and I will handle the recruits today. Take whatever time you need.”

I gave him a nod and pushed away from the table, heading back toward the instructors’ quarters.

I didn’t bother knocking on Farm Boy and Teacup’s door. I just let myself in, closing it quietly behind me. Maeve wasn’t even visible beneath the blankets. She’d somehow wrapped herself into a human-sized lump in the middle of the mattress, dead to the world. Farm Boy, on the other hand, was sitting on his bed across from her, looking far too awake for someone who’d spent half the night digging three graves.

The second he saw me, he straightened and hopped to his feet.

“Oh, thank God, sir.” He lowered his voice and glanced toward Maeve. “I’m starving. Like, genuinely concerned I might die. I need to hit the mess hall.”

I stared at him. “Then why the hell haven’t you eaten?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh…” His eyes drifted toward the mound of blankets. “Didn’t want to leave her.”

I looked from him to Maeve and back again. “Farm Boy, Archer can handle herself. I think she’ll survive the extreme danger of you walking to the building next door.”

“I know that,” he whispered defensively. “Obviously, I know that. I just…” He shrugged, suddenly looking a little sheepish. “Wanted her to sleep. Figured she might sleep better knowing somebody was here.”

Maeve had been right about Hayes. The kid was a damn donkey. Loyal, stubborn, and protective to a fault. Once he decided someone was his to look after, apparently there was no convincing him otherwise.

That was exactly the kind of man I wanted in my unit.

I sighed and jerked my chin toward the door. “All right. Go eat before you start gnawing on the furniture. I’ll take your shift.”

His face brightened. “Really?”

“Get the fuck out before I change my mind, Farm Boy.”

“Yes, sir.” He was halfway to the door before he turned back and pointed toward Maeve. “She’s been asleep for about—”

“Hayes.”

“Right. You got it.” He gave me a quick salute. “Your problem now.”

Then he slipped out the door, leaving me alone with the sleeping beauty and her pile of blankets. Or at least I thought she was sleeping.

“He’s going to be annoyingly clingy for a while now,” a sleepy voice murmured from somewhere beneath the covers.

I snorted and leaned back against the wall. “He was worried about you. Woke me up in the middle of the night and dragged me out looking.”

Maeve’s head emerged from beneath the blankets, hair a mess and eyes still heavy with sleep. She wore an irritated expression, but it did a piss-poor job of hiding the affection underneath.

“Of course he did,” she muttered.

“You’re supposed to be resting. Why the hell are you awake?”

“You’re both a lot fucking louder than you think you are.”

I snorted and pushed off the doorway, crossing the room so I could get a better look at her. A bruise had bloomed across one cheek, darkening along the edge of her cheekbone. My jaw tightened before I could stop it, and I crouched beside the bed, angling her face toward the light.

“Did you ice this?”