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“Pierce?” Rhiannon was watching him, her green-gold eyes filled with concern. “You’re worrying me.”
He offered her a wry smile that probably looked as forced as it felt.“I’m fine.”
Rhiannon didn’t look convinced. But before she could say anything else, a distant rumble echoed through the room. The ceiling creaked ominously, dust raining down on them as the building shuddered.
They all froze, gazes turned upwards. The tremor subsided as quickly as it had started, leaving them in a tense silence, dust particles lazily floating down like snowflakes in the still air.
Rhiannon was the first to break the silence. “Is everyone okay?” She coughed lightly, swiping her forearm over her mouth to clear away the dust.
Answers came in low murmurs of confirmation that they were all right, but their faces were pale with concern.
Pierce’s gaze darted back to Gareth lying prone, his eyes scrutinizing the too-still figure. No movement. No indication the man was even conscious, his breath steady and measured.
“Pierce?” Rhiannon was at his elbow again, her hand gently squeezing his arm, and he realized he was scrubbing uneasily at his scarred neck. “You’re not okay, are you?”
He didn’t answer right away, wrestling with the anxiety gnawing at his gut. That fucking panic was always lurking, ready to rear its ugly head at the slightest hint of danger. He hated its unrelenting grip, hated the way it threatened to drag him under if he wasn’t careful. He forced the feeling down, ruthlessly squashing the fear that threatened to spread into a panic attack and made himself drop his hand back to his side.
He was a soldier, goddamnit.
He knew how to handle a crisis.
“I’m fine. Just trying to figure out our next move.”
Rhiannon’s brow furrowed as she studied his face. She wasn’t buying it, and she wasn’t wrong to question him. At the best of times, his mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts, emotions, and warnings blaring from every direction. Sometimes, the storm was easier to navigate, but right now, it was a hurricane, growing stronger with each passing moment. He was twitchy and paranoid. And the continuous rumbling of the building wasn’t helping, only adding fuel to the fire of anxiety inside him.
Not the best combination for a man leading a group of civilians through a disaster zone.
Jesus.
He needed to get a grip.
Fast.
He shook off her concern with a tight nod, turning his gaze away from the unsettling stillness of Gareth’s prone figure.
“Uh-huh,” she said after a beat of silence. “Well, I think the only move you need to make right now is to rest. You can’t help anyone if you’re exhausted. We all need rest.”
She was right.
Although he despised the thought of being vulnerable, even for a moment, the strain in his body was a constant warning that he was pushing his limits. They’d been living on adrenaline and fear for hours. Their bodies were at the breaking point. Pierce glanced around the room, noting how the others sagged against walls or sat huddled on the floor. The energy that had fueled their initial survival efforts was fading fast.
“All right,”he agreed.“We’ll rest. But we need to set a watch, in case...”
“In case of another earthquake?” Rhiannon finished quietly when he didn’t.
He nodded, adding,“And in case Gareth wakes up.”
Rhiannon’s eyes flickered back to Gareth, who was still unconscious under the blanket Brooke had draped over him. She switched to sign language.“You think he’s a danger to us?”
Probably not.
And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling…
“Pierce?” she prompted out loud when he didn’t answer.
He shook his head.“I don’t know.”
“He’s badly hurt. Unconscious. He’s not a threat.”
