Burn (Brothers of Ink and Steel #2) by Allie Juliette Mousseau Page A

worry.”
    I nod then think of his back. We need to do something about those wounds before they get infected. Plus, I know he has to be in a lot of pain, even if he doesn’t want to show it.
    Looking around I spy a sink.
    “Take off your coat,” I tell him. “And turn around.”
    He does. The blood from his wounds has soaked through his t-shirt.
    “We need to clean your back.” I go to the sink and find soap and paper towels.
    When I walk back over, Liam has removed his shirt and sits on the floor with his head cradled in his hands.
    “It didn’t hurt until we stopped running,” he admits.
    I move around him to examine his back. My heart lurches in my throat. He has horrible, swelling welts crisscrossing his back from the hose and jagged rips from the metal hose end. Gently, I clean the blood and sweat. I can feel Liam flinch, but other than that, he stays incredibly, and eerily, still and quiet.
    Silent tears spill from my eyes. At this moment I hate the human race.
    In the wake of such evil, it’s hard to believe in anything or anyone good.
    But then I think about how Liam and I both protected each other and wonder … even if everyone else in the world is evil, maybe we can be good together.
    “Thank you, Quinn.” Liam’s voice is soft and unsure.
    I can’t think of a moment since I met him that he sounded unsure . I want to comfort him, but I don’t know the best way.
    “It’s good that you had your emergency backpack ready.” I open it and pull out a fresh t-shirt for him. “You should try to get some sleep.”
    “I’ve slept enough,” he says with a far off look in his eyes. “Here,” he balls up his coat and sets it in his lap. “Rest your head. By the time you wake up I’ll have figured out another arrangement.”
    I think of something I want to do to comfort him, but when I play it out in my head it feels … clumsy and silly.
    Forget it, I tell myself and lay down.
    I feel the weight of his arm as he lays it protectively over me.
    I can’t not do it. I feel compelled. Sitting on my knees, I get face to face with him and lay my palm on his cheek. My body shakes with the action.
    “I’m so sorry that they did that to you. You didn’t deserve it. And if I could take the pain from you, I would.” I slide my hand away and replace it with a soft kiss before I pull back and lay down again.
     
     
    I startle awake.
    “You’re okay, Quinn,” Liam’s voice reassures me. My head is still on his lap. “I’m sorry to wake you, but we need to get someplace safer before the sun comes up. The Richardsons probably called the cops.”
    “Okay.” I climb to my feet, not very enthusiastic about having to go out into the cold. “How is your back?”
    “Sucks, but I’ll get through it,” he says. “I found some gear in the lost and found crate.”
    After I get my coat on, Liam starts shoving mismatched mittens over my hands.
    “It’s too cold to go back under the bridge now, isn’t it?” I ask.
    “Yeah,”—he positions a black knit hat on my head—“but there’s an old abandoned house we can get into a few miles from here.”
    “We don’t have to go near …?” I ask cautiously.
    “Vince’s stomping grounds? Not a chance. I’m not taking you anywhere near that fucking place!” he guarantees, remembering what I told him about my encounter with the pimp and gang leader. “We’ll lay low for the day, and when school gets out, I’ll call Randy and see if he can let us stay at his place. His mom works a lot of double shifts at the all-night diner on 3 rd Street. She usually brings home good leftovers.”
    I nod and we step out into the cold.
    We get a mile into our walk, when a police car goes by on the other side of the road.
    Liam carefully looks behind us once it’s past. “If we get separated, Quinn, get yourself to 411 Huron Street. No one has been living in it for the past year. Get into one of the upstairs bedrooms—stay out of sight and away from the windows. I’ll