My heart plummets.
Shot?
I was right. From the very first moment when he shielded me when he pressed me down and hushed me — I knew something was wrong.
I feel the sting of tears behind my eyes, hot and fast, but I bite them back.
The last thing Asher needs right now is to see me falling apart again.
Still, I can't stop myself. My voice comes out in a whisper, shaking despite my best effort to keep it steady.
"You were shot?"
I watch him carefully, trying — begging — not to show how scared I am.
But Asher doesn’t even glance at me. He ignores the question entirely, saying nothing as he shrugs off his hoodie with stiff, jerky movements.
Underneath, he’s wearing a t-shirt — and the moment the fabric lifts, blood smears across his arm and side, dripping sluggishly down.
There’s no m
