20TenixHe’s gone.
A sob forces the air out of my lungs. He never knew I was coming for him. He died alone.
He’s so cold. I ache to warm him. I lower myself toward the crook of his arm.
An unfamiliar hand catches my shoulder and hurls me backward.
“What are you thinking?” Bridget hisses. “Just because it’s cut doesn’t mean it won’t explode.”
Vengeance snakes down my throat and bubbles inside of my ribcage, bathing my heart. My entire body convulses in response, and my eyes zero in on the knife in Bridget’s hand, calculating how best to retrieve it.
Reese grips my elbow. “If it needs to be done, I’ll do it myself,” she murmurs.
She’s right. She’s right.
I’m in control.
I blink away the red.
“He . . . he had time left,” Bridget stammers, and begins rising to her feet, her visible mu
