Claimed by the Mafia Biker
Not now.
“Nova,” Blade said, low, sharp. His eyes scanned the shadows as we moved, his knife glinting faintly in his hand. “Shift him to your left side, or you’re gonna throw your shoulder.”
“I’ve got him,” I snapped, though my arms trembled with the strain. “Just keep your eyes forward.”
Cruz groaned softly, his head tipping against my shoulder. His voice was barely there. “Stop arguing… just keep moving…”
“See?” I muttered, pressing closer to him. “He agrees with me.”