Page 11 of Constantly Cotton

He gave a distracted smile and tried to finish the story. “We had to wait until nightfall. The church was a lot busier than anybody thought, and most of the parishioners were, uhm—”

“Domestic terrorists?” Rivers supplied.

“Religious extremists?” Henry asked.

“White supremacists?” Lance asked.

“Carrying guns!” Jason half laughed, before coughing again. This time, Cotton stood up and used the touchless thermometer on his head like a pro.

“Lance, he’s topping 102. I’ll get him medicine, but this needs to end.”

“Cotton, it’s important,” Henry said, and Jason heard a layer of gentleness in his voice.

But Cotton wasn’t listening for gentleness. “I know it is!” he said, his voice pitching. “It’s important and it’s relevant, but Jason’s sick. We’ve worked all this time to get him good enough to talk—was that bullshit? Do we just throw him away now?”

There was a stunned silence, but oddly enough, it was Rivers who spoke next. “No,” he said gently. “But we need to know what he knows so we can keep him alive while he recovers. And you too, Cotton. I know it seems unfair to push him on this, but I promise you, we want everybody, including Colonel Constance, to be okay.”

Jason was close enough to hear him swallow. “Okay,” Cotton muttered. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jason could see Jackson catch his angel’s eye and smile winningly. “You’re right, he needs an advocate right now. You’re good at it. But let us finish up and we can get out of your way, all right?”

“Okay. Thanks, Jackson.”

Cotton sat back down next to the bed, and over his head, Jason mouthed, “Thanks.”

Of all things, Rivers winked.

“You keep sticking up for him—he needs it.” Jackson turned his attention to Jason. “So you guys waited in the desert until the church emptied out, and then you hotwired that hideous monstrosity with all the bullet holes.”

Jason gave a soundless laugh.

“Is that where you got the bruising on your face?”

Jason snorted. “Would you believe domestic terrorist religious extremists aren’t excited when you try to steal their property?”

“I’m stunned,” Rivers said, face deadpan. “Was he breathing when you left?”

Jason nodded. “But he probably had a nice sleep out there with the rattlesnakes. Anyway, the kids were starving by then. I pulled off at the first generic rest stop and had Sophie and Maxim go in and get about two hundred dollars in fast food. Shakes, cookies, fries—the works. And then two flats of water. God, those kids….” He shook his head. “All of them. So brave. But Sophie and her brother—we would have been lost without them.”

Rivers responded, surprising him. “You should know that it was their brother’s case that tipped us off that something was wrong. He got knocked on the back of the head and framed for murder, then put into gen pop at seventeen by a corrupt guard. Dietrich and Karina Schroeder managed to recruit half their family into this attempted takeover, and now they’re in the wind with Dima Siderov.”

“What about the other half of their family?” Jason asked, fairly alarmed.

“Well, a lot of them are dead or in prison,” Rivers answered frankly. “And a lot of Siderov’s operation was taken out in that massive traffic clusterfuck you got to witness. But that just makes those who are left more desperate. And their contact in the military is going to want you taken out in case you know something, because they’ll be breathing down his neck.”

“What are you going to do?” Jason asked, feeling that fever pounding his head and scorching over his skin now. “I don’t want to put anybody in danger.” He glanced at Cotton, who squeezed his hand in return.

“Burton’s staking you out,” Rivers told him. “You know that—and he brought friends. But beyond that, I think he’s putting people on it in your unit. We know you can trust Anton Huntington. That’s a start. He’s got a couple of people on the inside who he’s tapped too. I think as soon as you’re well enough to move, we do it—”

“Not alone!” Cotton protested, and Rivers nodded slowly.

“Of course we’d move a nurse with him,” he said, and Jason caught his dark look at Henry and Lance to make them not protest.

“I don’t want anybody in danger,” he repeated, and without thinking about it, squeezed Cotton’s hand. “Angel,” he mumbled. “Nobody can hurt you, okay?”

“I’ll take care of you,” Cotton told him. “Don’t worry.”

“He’s not getting it.” Jason’s voice sounded petulant to his own ears, and he gave a hard shiver. “Make him get it.”