Page 90 of Ember Rising

That’s not Amira, though.

“She’s injured,” I say. “Now get out so I can finish getting dressed and go check on her.”

“I’m going with you.”

The final thread of my control snaps. “You’re staying the fuck away from her. While you’ve been giving orders and making plans, I’ve been in the field. I’ve been beaten. Shot. I almost died on Island Three. Get out of here so I can get dressed and go stay with her. Alone.”

Gabriel turns and heads for the door, saying, “Get dressed. Then we’ll talk.”

Anger courses through my veins. I drop the towel and put on the rest of my clothes, then take the wet towel to a laundry bin.

I want to explain things to Amira before anyone else talks to her. She suspected I wasn’t telling her everything, and there’s no easy way to tell her she was right. But if I can give her my side of the story, there’s at least a chance she might understand.

When I push the locker room door open, the hallway is empty. I check a nearby seating area and find it empty, too.

Fuck.

I break into a run, pain shooting through my stomach. Pressing my palm over the wound through my clothes, I try a jog instead.

Still hurts. But if Gabriel gets to Amira before I do, it won’t matter if the stitches break and my intestines fall out. I rush out of the building, taking the sidewalk that leads to the building Amira’s in.

“Hey, you need some help?” a man calls out.

I shake my head, hunching over and clutching my wound with both hands. The only thing that will help me is a bolt of lightning hitting Gabriel before he gets to Amira.

Women have always seen me differently once they know what happened to my mom. Some are scared of me. Others feel sorry for me. I want to believe I’m nothing like my father, but I was so young when he went to prison that I don’t know. It was safest to shut down the part of myself that wanted to be with a woman. That way I knew I wouldn’t hurt anyone like he did.

Amira’s different, though. She’s the only woman who didn’t want to take a step back from me when she found out. She took a step closer.

Finally, I reach the building she’s in. Warm, wet blood coats my palms, but I ignore it. Diego can stitch me up again. All that matters is reaching Amira.

I just need one more chance. I’ll crawl to her on my hands and knees if I have to.

“Van, what the hell?” Diego rushes up to me, surveying my bloody hands.

“Is she awake?”

He puts an arm around my waist. “Yeah, man. She’s fine. Let’s get you into a room.”

“Take me to her.”

“You need⁠—”

“I need to see her!” I roar, grimacing from the pain it causes me. “Take me there.”

He pinches his brows together, calling out to someone nearby. “I need a gurney. Now.”

I stagger forward, Diego bending to put my arm around his shoulder. He’s a decent-sized guy, but I’m bigger than him. We make it about ten steps before someone rolls a gurney over.

“You need to get on,” he says.

“No.”

“I can get you there faster on this.”

I scowl, frustrated. “Fine.”

I roll onto it, yelling as pain shoots through my entire midsection.