Chapter 7 – Aftermath & Ashes
1947 Words
THE SUN hadn’t even fully risen yet, but the compound looked like it had been dragged through hell. Smoke curled in thin gray lines from collapsed beams. Fires still smoldered in blackened patches, and bullet casings glittered across the dirt like twisted ornaments. Someone had tried to hang Christmas lights along the southern fence last night, but half of them were hanging in melted strands, blinking weakly, like even they weren’t sure they wanted to stay lit.
Lily stood in the center of the courtyard, staring at the mess. Her palms were scraped. Her arm stung where glass had cut her. Her hair was a tangled disaster. She didn’t care about any of that. Her whole body still hummed with leftover adrenaline and the sharp, painful sound of gunfire echoing in her bones.
Ronan was pacing in front of her, furious enough to shake the air.
“You have any idea what you just survived?” he snapped. “Do you know how close they were to dragging you out? Because I know. I saw it from the tower. I saw you standing there like—”
“I wasn’t standing,” Lily said quietly. “I was running for cover. And Jeremiah—”
“Jeremiah shouldn’t have needed to save you in the first place!” Ronan shouted. His voice cracked at the end, more fear than anger, but he’d rather swallow a grenade than admit it.
Lily’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t ask for anyone to save me.”
“No, but you put yourself in the damn open!” Ronan said. “You think I can fight when I’m worrying about where the hell you are every ten seconds?!”
“You think yelling at me helps?” she shot back.
“It helps me not lose my f*****g mind!” he fired.
Jeremiah stood a short distance behind Ronan, quiet, arms crossed, that unreadable look on his face. He’d been like that since the attack ended. No words. No complaints. Just brooding, scanning the compound like he was one second away from snapping someone’s neck.
His eyes kept cutting to Lily though. Quick, sharp glances he tried to hide but didn’t.
Lily’s chest tightened every time he did it.
“Hey,” she said, raising her voice a notch as Ronan paced again, muttering. “I’m still here, okay? I’m fine.”
“That is not the point,” Ronan said, turning around so fast she stepped back. “You were too close. They came straight for the garage. Straight for you.”
“So now it’s my fault?” she asked, voice going flat.
Ronan froze. “I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“You were in their path, Lily!”
Jeremiah finally stepped forward, voice low. “Ronan.”
Ronan turned on him. “Not now.”
“I wasn’t asking,” Jeremiah said.
Lily blinked. Jeremiah rarely spoke unless he needed to.
Jeremiah stepped between them, not aggressively, just steady. He looked Ronan dead in the eye.
“She didn’t put herself in danger,” he said. “They were already targeting that side of the compound.”
Ronan scoffed. “And how do you know that?”
“I saw the pattern,” Jeremiah said. “I’m not guessing.”
Lily felt Ronan’s anger shift. Not gone, just redirected. Like he wanted to throw a punch at the air.
“Great,” Ronan muttered. “Fantastic. So they came for us with a plan.”
Lily swallowed hard. “Do you think it was Robert?”
Ronan didn’t answer at first. His jaw clenched.
Jeremiah’s eyes flicked toward her, sharp and too aware.
Ronan finally said, “We don’t know.”
But Lily recognized that tone. It meant he had a suspicion, and he hated admitting it out loud.
Jeremiah, though, answered quietly. “Maybe.”
That one word chilled her worse than the cold morning wind blowing through the ruined courtyard.
Ronan scrubbed a hand over his face. “I need to check the north cameras again,” he muttered. “See if anything came through before the main assault. Jeremiah, keep an eye on her.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
Ronan shot her a look. “That wasn’t a suggestion.” He stomped off toward the surveillance room, his boots crunching over broken glass.
Silence settled between her and Jeremiah as the echo of Ronan’s footsteps faded.
Smoke drifted from the collapsed garage roof. The air smelled like metal and ash. Somewhere, someone dragged a wounded man toward the infirmary.
Lily wrapped her arms around herself. Her body was sore, but the adrenaline was fading, replaced by cold reality.
Jeremiah walked closer. “Let me see your arm.”
“It’s fine,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “You said that last night too.”
She looked at the slice on her forearm. It had stopped bleeding, but it was red and tender.
Jeremiah moved slow, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. She didn’t.
He took her wrist gently, turning her arm. His hands were rough, warm, steady. Everything she wasn’t. Lily swallowed hard as heat crawled up her neck.
“You need this cleaned,” he said.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s something,” he said softly.
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small first aid kit he always seemed to have on him. He wasn’t a medic, but he had fixed up more people in this club than half the medical staff combined.
He knelt beside her, guiding her to sit on a fallen crate. She tried not to wince as he dabbed antiseptic on the cut.
“Ow,” she muttered.
“You’re fine,” he said, but his touch gentled even more.
She stared at the top of his head, at the ash dusting his dark hair. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you?”
His hands paused. For a moment he didn’t breathe.
“Because you’re hurt,” he said simply.
Her chest tightened. “Jeremiah…”
He didn’t look up. Just kept cleaning, slow and careful. “You scared Ronan last night.”
“I know.”
“You scared me,” he said quietly.
She sucked in a breath. That she didn’t expect.
Jeremiah finally lifted his head, and his eyes met hers. They were darker than before, more intense, like they held something he couldn’t put into words.
“You were too close to the fire,” he said. “Too close to getting shot.”
“You were, too.”
“That’s different.”
“How?” she challenged.
He didn’t answer right away. He taped a bandage over her cut before he finally spoke.
“Because I’m built for that,” he said softly. “You’re not supposed to be in the line of fire. Not for us.”
“I didn’t choose to be targeted.”
“I know. And that’s what makes it worse.”
Lily swallowed around the knot in her throat. “Ronan thinks it’s my fault.”
“Ronan thinks losing you would break him,” Jeremiah said. “So yeah, he’s angry. At you. At the attackers. At himself. At me.”
“At you?” she echoed.
Jeremiah let out a low, humorless sound. “He thinks I get too close. That I let you be near the fight. That I stepped in too fast. Take your pick.”
Lily stared at him. “That’s not fair. You saved me.”
“That’s why he’s mad,” Jeremiah said. “He didn’t want anyone else saving you.”
Her breath hitched. Something about the way he said it felt too honest.
Too real.
Jeremiah straightened and wiped his hands on a cloth. When he stepped back, Lily grabbed his wrist without thinking.
He froze.
She felt the shock run through him.
His eyes dropped to her hand, then lifted to her face. Slowly. Like every second cost him something.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He swallowed. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“I want to.”
His jaw flexed.
Her thumb brushed the inside of his wrist. He sucked in a breath.
“Lily,” he said, voice low and strained.
“Yeah?”
“You can’t… keep touching me like that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to be smart here.”
“You’re always smart.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She stepped closer before she could stop herself. “Then what did you mean?”
His eyes flicked to her lips. Very fast. Very telling.
“I meant,” he said, voice rough, “that I almost lost it last night.”
“Lost what?”
“My head,” he said. “My control. Everything.”
Her pulse skipped.
He leaned closer—not touching her, but close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him in waves.
“I saw you cornered,” he said quietly. “And something in me… snapped.”
Her heartbeat hammered. “Jeremiah…”
“You don’t understand,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking about tactics or positions. I wasn’t thinking about the men coming through the gate. I was thinking about you. Just you. Getting hurt. Getting taken.”
His breath brushed her cheek. Her lips parted.
“I can’t protect you if I’m not focused,” he said. “And I can’t stay focused when you look at me like that.”
Her knees went weak.
“How am I looking at you?” she asked softly.
“Like you want something dangerous,” he whispered.
Her fingers tightened around his wrist. “Maybe I do.”
He shut his eyes for a second like the words physically hit him.
“Lily,” he said, voice shaking a little. “We can’t.”
“I know.” She stepped even closer. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”
One heartbeat passed.
Then another.
Jeremiah’s hand lifted, almost touching her cheek, stopping just short. His fingers hovered near her skin, trembling.
“You should stay away from me,” he whispered.
“Then stop looking at me like that,” she said.
His eyes opened. Dark. Hungry. Tormented.
“I can’t,” he said.
Before either of them could say anything else, Ronan’s voice shouted from across the courtyard.
“Jeremiah! Lily! Get over here!”
They pulled apart instantly. Lily felt the cold rush in where Jeremiah’s warmth had been.
She cleared her throat. “What is it?”
Ronan waved a piece of paper in the air. “We got something from the outer cameras. You need to see this.”
Jeremiah straightened. “What is it?”
“Proof,” Ronan said, eyes hard. “Someone out there wants us dead.”
Lily felt her stomach drop. “Is it Robert?”
Ronan didn’t answer right away.
Which told her everything.
Jeremiah stepped in front of her subtly.
Protective.
Possessive.
Silent.
The smoke behind them curled into the sky. Christmas lights flickered weakly along the fence. And as Lily followed Ronan toward the surveillance room, Jeremiah walked beside her, close enough that their arms brushed every few steps.
A small touch.
But enough to remind her that despite the ruins around them, despite Ronan’s anger, despite the fear tightening her chest—
The most dangerous thing happening here was her growing, unstoppable obsession with Jeremiah Veyne.
- Writer
