Page 64 of Pulse Zero
Click.
I freeze as fear traces my veins, but I still refuse to take my eyes off Reese even as his guards hold their guns on me. Partly out of rage. Partly out of fear he’ll disappear again if I so much as blink.
And I haven’t made him pay nearly enough.
For a long moment, no one moves.
Then Reese exhales through his nose like I’m a mildly disappointing math problem. He lifts a hand. “Leave us.”
The command is quiet, and, again, they don’t hesitate. Maybe they’re not his guards at all. They don’t seem too concerned with his safety as much as they do obeying orders. Or anticipating them. Like they’re only around to do his dirty work if he’s too lazy.
The guns are lowered, and I finally take a breath. The men’s heavy steps echo off the concrete walls before the door shuts behind them.
And suddenly it’s just the two of us.
I’m not sure how much time passes where we do nothing but stand here and breathe and stare into each other’s eyes. My breaths are heavy, erratic, my chest heaving, full of agony andanger. His are calm, steady. Scary because they’re nothing but air.
He turns his head slightly, testing his jaw where I hit him. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek. There’s a faint smear of blood at the corner of his mouth. He wipes it away with his thumb, his gaze briefly flicking down to the crimson drop before it’s back on me.
“You hit harder than you used to.”
“Oh, fantastic,” I say, voice hoarse. “Glad to know the kidnappee feedback will be glowing.”
Something flickers across his face, and it’s not amusement. The Reese I remember would’ve smirked, or at leastpretendedto be annoyed. But this isn’t pretend. It’s real. And it lands in my gut like a dropped weight.
This version of him studies me, eyes narrowed with impatience.
“Making jokes? Still?”
“Historically, it’s how I cope with being abducted.”
“I remember.”
The words land wrong. Like he wishes hedidn’tremember.
Before I can letthatshatter me in even worse ways, Reese steps forward. The movement is fast enough that instinct kicks in and I take a half-step back.
Seriously fuck him for bringing out the fear in me.
His hand shoots out and grabs my throat, not tight enough to crush, just enough to control. He turns me ninety degrees and shoves me against the side wall, my back slamming against the concrete with a dull thud. My hands come up automatically, gripping his wrist. He’s stronger than I remember, leaner maybe, but with the kind of strength that feels honed instead of brute.
His face is inches from mine, and up close, the differences are even more obvious. The faint pink lines of scars at his templeand his jaw. There’s also something colder and sharper living behind his silver eyes, like the edge of a knife that’s been frozen.
“You don’t get to joke,” he says quietly, still too eerily calm as he increases the pressure on my throat. “You don’t get to pretend this is funny.”
“Of course it’s not fucking funny!” My pulse slams against his fingers as my voice comes out strained but no less furious. “You let me think you were dead for seven fucking years! Fuck you, you fucking piece of—”
He squeezes, and all the air is severed from my brain.
And, yet, I still can’t look away.
That’s when I feel a warm, wet tear slide down my cheek.
Traitorous fucking tear.
Reese’s eyes track it, the crease between his brows deepening, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s remembering like I am.
I start feeling lightheaded. My lips move, but his name gets lost before it can reach them. He eases the pressure, and I suck in air. My throat burns worse than it did when I first woke up. Little black specs dot my vision. I’ve barely taken two breaths when he completely ignores my outburst and gets right to the interrogation part of the abduction.
