Eve jolted awake, her fingers instinctively tightened around the bat still gripped in her hand. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep—not really. It wasn’t safe. She’d only meant to rest her eyes for a moment, but clearly, her body had betrayed her. She blinked away the remnants of sleep, trying to regain her bearings. 

Something felt off. A strange weight pressed against her shoulder.

Frowning, Eve glanced down, her body tensing as the realization hit her.

Ash.

The girl was leaning into her, her head resting against Eve’s shoulder like it belonged there. Her face was soft in sleep, free of tension and fear. She looked peaceful. Serene. And it was so wildly out of place that Eve didn’t know what to do with it.

Discomfort twisted in her stomach. She sat frozen, caught between the instinct to shove Ash off her and the bewildering need to remain still. Her mind churned. Why the hell would she lean on me? Ash didn’t know her. For all she knew, Eve could be a murderer, some psychopath waiting for the right moment to snap.

People are dangerous, Eve reminded herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Unpredictable. Trust is a liability, and closeness… She couldn’t afford closeness.

She shifted slightly, trying to ease her shoulder out from under Ash without waking her, but the girl only stirred faintly, murmuring in her sleep as her head settled more firmly against Eve’s shoulder. Eve bit back a frustrated sigh, her breath puffing in the cold air.

“You’re like a fucking leech,” she muttered under her breath. Her voice was sharp but lacked its usual venom, trailing off into the thick silence of the room.

Then Ash moved.

It was subtle at first—a soft, sleepy moan as her hand reached out blindly, brushing against Eve’s arm before sliding downward. Eve’s breath hitched as Ash’s hand came to rest on her upper thigh, warm and light but unmistakably there.

Her body stiffened.

The warmth of Ash’s hand seemed to sear through the fabric of her jeans, setting every nerve on fire. Eve’s pulse spiked, and her thoughts dissolved into chaotic static. The room felt smaller. The air thickened around her, suffocating.

What in the actual fuck was this?

She shifted again, desperate to dislodge Ash’s hand without waking her, but the movement only made it worse. Ash stirred, her fingers sliding higher, brushing dangerously close to—

A jolt of panic surged through Eve, breaking the trance. She shoved Ash off her, the movement rougher than she’d intended but fueled by the sudden intensity of her discomfort.

Ash slumped sideways with a sleepy mumble, her hand falling limply to the floor. Blinking blearily, she squinted up at Eve, confusion etched across her face.

“What…” Ash started, her voice groggy and thick with sleep.

Eve didn’t let her finish. “I’m checking the store,” she snapped, already standing and gripping her bat like a lifeline.

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and marched toward the front of the store. Her boots scuffed against the cracked tile, the sound sharp and grounding against the roar in her ears.

The store was the same as before—broken shelves, scattered debris, nothing moving in the dim light. No immediate danger. No reason for her to feel like her chest was on fire.

She stopped near the front door, resting her forehead against the cold glass. The chill cut through the heat crawling up her neck, grounding her in the harsh reality of the moment.

Survival. That’s all that matters, she told herself firmly. Not Ash. Not the way her hand had felt. Not the strange knot still twisting in her stomach.