My stomach grumbled and rolled, a little earthquake underneath my abs. I hadn’t eaten much on the flight from Germany. Before that it had been hospital food while they dug shrapnel out of my arm. And before that it had been knockoff MREs. Not even the regular nutrient-dense stuff the army had; this was cheap imitation they served security personnel at the warehouse where I’d been undercover.In short, I was fucking ravenous.But I made a pit stop in the bathroom and grabbed a hot shower, determined to feel human again. Besides, Della had invited me into her room—the least I could do was not look like a slob.I found her in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the propped-open window above the sink. Her blonde hair was pale gold, limned with light. She looked like a goddamned angel, and for the first time I wondered if I really did need to hook up with one of the military’s counselors. But if Della were some PTSD-induced delusion, I didn’t really want to know.My training had taught me to move lightly, all two hundred and sixty pounds of me, so I shuffled on purpose so as not to scare her.She turned to look at me, and her smile nearly stopped my heart.
