Reaching my door, Mae pulled it open. Instantly, I saw concern on her face. “Maddie,” she whispered, clearly in relief. “Are you okay?”
I nodded my head. Taking Mae’s outstretched hand, I let her pull me from the truck and onto the grass. Mae wrapped her arm around my shoulders and began to lead me toward the cabin. But as we passed Styx, I saw him glaring at Flame, his hands moving in rapid movements. I did not speak the hand language that Styx, Mae and most of the men did, but I could tell that he was angry at Flame.
“Styx. Prez—” I heard Viking try to speak to Styx, but clearly Styx had cut him off.
Mae kept pushing me forward, but the memory of Flame’s face when he had seen me exit the church, his body weak with injury, and his face pale, caused me to stop dead.
Whatever the reason was, he had put his recovery aside to save me from something he viewed as a threat. I exhaled.
He should not be getting punished.
“Maddie? What is wrong?” Mae said from beside me. Stepping out of Mae’s protective arm, I turned. As soon as I did, a tired looking Flame stood near me. Styx was still talking with his hands, but Flame watched me as I took a hesitant step forward. His dark eyes widened as I continued to slowly, and apprehensively, approach. His hands at his sides clenched, and his jaw became rigid with tension.
I heard the quiet sound of Mae rushing to Styx, whispering something I could not hear, but I had one intention, and one intention only.
The smell of oil and leather hit me first, then something I could not make out, something distinctly Flame. Now only a hairsbreadth away from Flame, my eyes to the ground, a silence had descended on the group.
Clasping my hands together to maintain my composure, I lifted my head. This close, I realized I had missed him with a devastating intensity. I realized, that not once had I felt this safe since he had been gone.
Flame swallowed hard and watched me. My heart fluttered when I admitted to myself that I liked the way he watched me. I liked that, when I was near, the pained expression he always wore fell away.
Steeling my fraying nerves, I whispered, “Thank you.” I inhaled a quick breath to steady my shaking voice, dropped my eyes from his penetrating stare, and added, “Thank you. Thank you for saving my life.”
The heavy silence felt as though it was choking me. I could hear the breeze, the night birds in the trees, and then I heard a quick exhale of breath. Raising my eyes again, I saw Flame’s lips part, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.Gritting his teeth, his inked gums reading ‘PAIN’ came into full view. Flame edged forward until his close presence stole my composure. I blinked in rapid succession trying to brace for what he may do.
Flame’s heavy muscles tensed. His hand began to rise. My body became rigid, thinking he was going to touch me. My instinct was to pull away, to step back and refuse contact. But as I looked upon his tired face, I could not help but keep still.
Flame’s hand trembled as he tried to reach for my face, but as it hovered only inches away it stopped, hanging suspended in the air. Flame’s eyes glassed over. Then with a pent up exhale, he withdrew his hand and stumbled back.
Whipping my head to my right, Mae was staring at me, her mouth parted in shock. Styx was glaring, eyes narrowed. My skin instantly set on fire, my cheeks blazing with embarrassment.
Stepping back, I headed toward the cabin, desperate to escape the attention. Mae rushed beside me. Just as I was about to gain the sanctuary of the house, I heard, “Maddie…” whispered in a guttural, sad voice.
I immediately halted. I glanced over my shoulder to see Flame standing a few steps before his brothers. He looked at me with such sorrowful eyes that I feared my heart would crack right down the center.
There was such longing in his expression, as though he was desperate for me to say something. Anything.
Forcing a smile, I tucked my hair behind my ear, and whispered, “Good night, Flame. I… I am happy you have returned.” In my head I added, “to me,” but that would never be said aloud.
Chapter Three
Flame
I watched her go until the door of the Prez’s cabin clicked shut. I didn’t move. I just stared at the wooden door, feeling a huge fucking pit in my stomach.
Lifting my hand, I looked down at my rigid fingers. They looked just like everyone else’s, but they didn’t work the same. Because other people could touch someone else. They could’ve put their hand on her face after she’d said thank you. They could’ve felt her skin. They could’ve maybe made her feel better.
But then the frustration filled my heart, and I thought, Your touch is poison. You’ll hurt her.