Free Through the Static by Jeanette Grey Page B

opened it. Her smile faltered, and his gaze flickered to where the edges of her mouth turned down. His brows furrowed slightly, and she stroked his cheek, leaning in to press a soft, closed-mouth kiss against his lips. He returned it with warm pressure. As she pulled away, he lifted his hand and slid his fingers through her hair.
    Then his eyes darted sharply to hers, his thoughts echoing what she’d said.
    â€œYou called me another name,” he said slowly. “Before.”
    She stiffened and nodded. “I did.”
    â€œIt was my name.”
    â€œI think it was.”
    He gazed at her for the longest time. While he was outwardly still, in his mind, memories swirled and faded, shadows moving in and amongst a ruined landscape of half-images, burned and black. They hurt to look at in their incompleteness, but if he felt the same pain he didn’t show it.
    The slow parade of lost pasts faded away, and his whole face softened, the tenderness in his eyes disarming. He reached up a hand to cup her cheek. The kiss this time was all gentleness, the contact colored by an affection that was nearly overwhelming as he showed her that even these broken shards of memory were new. That she had given them to him.
    â€œThank you.” He pressed his lips to hers once more, then to her nose and to her brow. “Thank you.”
    His thoughts radiating gratitude, he let go of her and moved to sit. They were quiet as he pulled his clothes back on and helped her into hers, taking that same care with her injuries that he had as they’d joined together, eyes still full of concern as he ran his fingertips along the edge of the bandage at her shoulder.
    â€œI wish I could do more,” he said, voice gruff. With his eyes, he apologized for her lingering pain, and with his lips, he kissed tender skin. He covered her up, then held out a hand and helped her stand. Once she was on her feet, he reached down and picked up her weapon, looking between it and her for a second before he seemed to come to a decision in his mind.
    His hand was steady as he held the pistol out to her.
    She took it, silently acknowledging that he was giving her much more than just the gun. She tucked it into the waistband of her pants and then slid her hand back into his.
    As they stood together in the center of the clearing, he glanced up, showing her his calculations as he measured the sun’s angle in the sky and compared it with his chronometer. He looked down at her. “We need to get moving. And we’ll need a new transport.”
    She swallowed hard. “I know.”
    It brought them back to the same question of where to go and what came next. There were her injuries, of course, but more pressing were his, invisible as they were. She still needed to get him someplace where she could open his head up and patch the places in his mind where she’d torn him loose. She needed to complete the sever.
    She needed to set him free.
    Because after everything, there was no way she was letting him go back to his Three now. Not after learning the touch of his hands on her body and the depths of his humanity. Not after learning him .
    No, what she needed to do hadn’t changed. But what she was willing to do to accomplish it had. Squeezing his hand, she took one step forward, striking off in a direction she’d once hoped she’d never have to go.
    He held her back, grasping her palm. “Where are we going?”
    Turning to face him, she lifted her chin, gazing deep into his eyes as she strengthened her resolve. She trusted him. It would probably come back to bite her, but by God, she did.
    Her voice was level as she told him, “We’re going to my safe house.”
    Jinx could hardly believe how easy it was to be with Aurelia now. Even without the complete intimacy of being buried in her, body and mind, there was a warm glow to their connection, a level of understanding he’d never felt with Curse and Charm, no