Chapter 135

• Zayla Steele hadn’t slept. She felt Joaquin Latham drawing near the moment he stepped in. She wanted to dodge, but her body wouldn’t obey.
• Joaquin brushed his fingers over her brow, then glanced at her clenched fist. Blood marred the gaps between her fingers. His eyes tightened. He gently took her hand and pried her fingers open one by one. When he saw the crescent wounds she’d gouged into her own palm, his lips pressed thin.
• He’d only been gone a little while, and she’d already hurt herself.