GENEVIEVE’S POV
His arms were warm.
That was the first thing I noticenot the blood staining the concrete nearby, not the mangled, motionless body slumped just feet away, not even the pain slicing down my side or the burn still radiating from the slap on my cheek. Those things came later. They circled like shadows on the edge of my awareness, waiting for their moment to strike. But right now?
Just his warmth.
It cocooned me, wrapped around me like a blanket pulled from some forgotten dream. I curled into it instinctively, like a child in a storm seeking shelter beneath trembling hands. Everything else the fear, the pain, the filth of that man’s touch faded beneath the solidity of André’s embrace.
The world blurred around me. It didn’t feel quite real just smoke, broken light, distant shouts, the taste of blood in my mouth. My mind kept slipping, falling backward into the darkness, replaying the moment I was pinned beneath him. That man. His sweat-slicked skin. The foul stench of his b
