Page 80

“Jesus!” he cried, as if he were just now noticing the growing fire behind us. “Get to my car!” He was already on his radio, calling for fire trucks.

It had started small, to be fair, but it was amplifying quickly. Luckily, the wind blew away from us, spreading the flames backward, toward the factory.

Colton herded us toward the cars, keeping at our backs like the true protector he was. I rolled my eyes and let him have this moment.

When we got to the cruiser, Colton reached inside for the first aid kit, unfurling a fire blanket.

When he hurried to take Jackson from Dante’s arms, I was surprised that Dante let him. Not because I thought Dante wanted the limelight or a hero badge. But because he was possessive, concerned about Jackson. Genuinely.

Colton held the boy with exquisite gentleness, wrapping him tightly.

“What the fuck happened?” Colton’s eyes found mine.

Jackson, the little fucker, chose that as his moment to groan awake.

Perfect timing.

Colton’s entire attention went to the boy, there as Jackson started shaking, quivering, calling for his mother.

My chest stung. From smoke inhalation, I told myself.

Colton murmured quietly to Jackson until the EMTs, police, and firefighters arrived, leaving Dante and me to twiddle our thumbs. Or more accurately, leaving me to chain smoke while Dante glared at my hands. As much as I wanted to walk away, I knew better than to think Colton would let me, regardless of how distracted he was.

So I waited. Did my best to ignore Dante. It didn’t work, since he’d somehow managed to sweet talk an EMT into giving him supplies, then he’d gently but confidently disinfected and wrapped my hands without speaking a word.

My skin, though throbbing in agony, tingled with a soft buzzing feeling from Dante’s tender touch. No one, absolutely no one, had ever taken care of my injuries after a hunt. Granted, I usually hunted alone. But on the off occasion I didn’t, the most help I’d received was someone hurling a shitty first aid pack at my chest.

That’s how I liked it. I was a lone wolf—pardon the pun—content to lick my own wounds, drink in excess, and not form any messy connections.

Though I felt Dante’s delicate touch and intense glances like a warm fucking blanket.

Colton only left Jackson once the EMT had done a onceover, confirming no mortal injuries.

That was when he stormed over to us.

Dante stepped closer to my side. Like we were a pair. A team. Like we were in this together. I stiffened but didn’t look at him.

“What the fuck?” Colton hissed, leaning forward, looking more furious than I’d ever seen him.

I crushed my smoke under my boot. “I think you mean ‘thank you, Hadley, for saving the life of a child I would’ve never found,’” I replied smarmily.

“I was there too,” the tattooed man-child whined from beside me. I didn’t need to look at him to know he had on a cocky grin, his pearly whites shining at Colton.

I patted Dante’s shoulder. “Yes, you were, and you were such a good boy.”

Dante’s shoulder didn’t so much as stiffen where I touched him. Meanwhile, I struggled through the heinous pain caused by the simple gesture.

Colton folded his arms, obviously not amused. “This isn’t time for jokes, Hadley. This is a criminal investigation.”

“Good thing I’m here with a federal agent.” I jerked my thumbs toward Dante.

“Federal agents are required to coordinate with police officials, and this isn’t the case he’s even here to investigate,” Colton sneered, not looking at Dante.

“Not here on official business,” Dante answered him anyway, sounding cheerful. A little smug. “Happy accident. We were out hiking and found the kid.”

Silence hovered in the air, yet I refused to say more than I had to.

“You were just hiking in the sewers in the middle of the night?” The disbelief in Colton’s tone was obvious. The lie was thin, at best. But what other rational reason could we have given? Lucky for us, despite his temper being stretched, his patience being pushed to its limit, Colton was still a rational man.