Page 18 of After the Burn

The moment the words left his mouth, regret flashed across his face.

Too late.

Lane appeared at the top of the stairs, holding Emery against his side while Avery stood partially behind him, both girls wide-eyed and frightened.

Ethan looked sick.

Served the little punk right.

“They became our responsibility the second we brought them here,” I said coldly.

Lane shifted, pulling Emery closer to his side, exhaustion written all over his face even as he squared his shoulders. “I can protect my sisters.”

The defensiveness in his voice made my chest tighten painfully because he shouldn’t have had to say it in the first place.

He was barely more than a kid himself.

“I know you can,” I said, forcing some of the bite out of my tone. “But you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

Avery stepped closer to Lane silently, her fingers curling into the back of his shirt while Emery watched all of us with eyes that looked too old for a child her age.

Ethan scrubbed a hand over his face hard enough to redden the skin. “I’m not staying behind while Lila’s out there.”

“Yes, you are.”

“The hell I am.”

“You think charging blindly into the woods is going to help her?” I snapped. “Right now, all that does is leave them”—I pointed toward the girls—“with less protection if something happens here.”

His jaw flexed hard enough that I thought he might actually swing at me.

Part of me wished he would. I needed to let go of some of the rage I’d been carrying for months.

Instead, he looked away first, which told me everything, because Ethan knew I was right.

“I would’ve stopped her if I’d woken up,” he muttered quietly.

The anger had mostly burned out of his voice now, leaving something worse behind.

Fear.

The boy wasn’t all bad, and I knew it. It’s just that lately my patience has been wearing thin.

“You couldn’t have.” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “And honestly? Nobody could’ve.”

Once Taryn made up her mind, it was a done deal, and Lila would never have let her go alone.

The room fell quiet for a few seconds, broken only by the creak of old wood and the faint hiss of grease still popping in the cooling pan below.

I tightened the straps on my pack and headed for the stairs before anybody could argue again.

“Lucas.”

I stopped halfway down.

Ethan stood in the hallway behind me, jaw tight, eyes bloodshot from too many nights without enough sleep. “Bring them back.”

I nodded once and kept moving.