Page 53 of Explorer’s Revenge

FORTY-SIX

RICK

W e’ve been in the hospital for a few days, and it’s driving us all crazy.

Wilder and I have been given the all clear.

I’ll need physical therapy, but they want me to start in our home city when Logan is stable enough to move.

Luckily, the first operation was a success.

He might need another in the future, but they are hopeful he won’t.

The doctors said his mindset has a lot to do with it.

His recovery hinges on it, so we need to keep his strength up and ensure his happiness.

Ajax checks on us daily and tells us not to worry about anything else.

Since Maeve keeps sleeping in our room as well, he wrangles it so we can all share one.

It’s a squeeze, but none of us care. When Logan wakes up panicking, she’s there, holding his hand, and we give them the privacy they need since he only seems comfortable letting her see that, not us.

It hurts, but I know he’s worried about upsetting us.

Maeve’s dad is here every day, looking after us and making sure we rest and eat. He’s a great man, and we get along well. He tells us his stories about his expeditions, and I love it.

None of us have spoken about what will happen when we go back.

I know I don’t want to be apart from Maeve.

We wouldn’t have survived that island without her, but it’s more than that.

It’s the bond we created while we were there, driven by trauma, fear, and something deeper.

I know none of us want to say goodbye, but I also know it’s probably out of our hands.

Ajax has contracts and plans, and we need to figure out a way around those, but for now, we are all focused on resting and relaxing.

Soon enough, our need to move and do more will emerge, but we are all riding the wave of post-survival glow and making the most of it.

Way folds his cards on the table with a groan since this is the second hand he’s lost in a row.

Logan is sleeping, and when Way glances over, I follow his gaze.

Logan’s hand is in Maeve’s, who’s curled up at his side.

He never wants her far from him, and I understand, but the strangest part is she doesn’t seem inclined to leave him either.

“She’s going to injure herself sleeping like that every night,” Way grumbles as he climbs to his feet and stretches out.

“You try telling her what to do.” I grin as I pick up another card and inspect my hand.

“Not a chance. She scares me.” He grins as he walks over to them.

Way pulls the blanket from the bed and drapes it around her shoulders, tucking it in carefully before lingering.

I think he assumes no one is watching as he leans down and kisses her forehead, but when I glance back, I see all my brothers are staring too.

Aiyaret and Way are dating, but Aiy smiles as he watches them, seemingly happy, then focuses back on his cards. He’s been bolder since we got off the island, more open to speaking and asking for what he wants. He still has nightmares, but he’s changing, and we all know it’s thanks to Maeve and Way.

How could we deny him anything that makes him happy?

“You know this isn’t normal, right?” Wilder comments, his voice low as Way rejoins us, holding a water bottle in his hand.

“When we get back to reality, she might walk away from us. Whatever this . . . thing is between us, it’s not something the world would ever tolerate.

She already fights so much more than us since she’s a woman in our field and has to prove herself, so this might be too much. ”

“I think that’s up to her,” I say as I process his words. “No one tells Maeve Carter what to do, and when she’s made up her mind, she’s sure. Besides, she never gave a damn what the world thought before.”

“And you?” my brother asks. “What if it means losing our fans and our job?”

He’s anxious, so I pat his shoulder. “Brother, stop worrying so much about the future, especially one that might never happen. You like Maeve, yes?”

His lips purse, but he nods his head.

“Then that’s all that matters. Our relationships are between us, no one else. Besides, none of us have ever been normal, so why should our dating lives be standard? If anyone could keep up with us, it’s her.”

“What if this all goes wrong?” Wilder sighs, and I see the fear in his eyes. He’s always trying to protect us from things that might hurt us.

“You can’t protect our hearts, Wilder,” Way says as if he were thinking the same thing. “Any relationship can fail, not just this one, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give it a try. I say let Maeve lead, and we’ll follow.”

“It’s her choice,” Aiy agrees as he looks at Wilder. “We shouldn’t take it from her or talk for her. Personally, I don’t care if it seems odd to anyone else. She makes us happy, so why is that a problem?”

“You know, almost being eaten by a croc really enlightened you,” I tease, and Aiy gives me a narrow-eyed look. “Just saying.”

“And it didn’t stop that mouth,” he retorts, making my eyes widen as we all burst out laughing before becoming silent when there’s a groan from the sleeping beauties.

We play a few hands before Wilder finally speaks up. “I’m just . . . worried—not just for us, but for her.” His eyes go to Maeve. “She’s been through enough. I don’t want to be another reason she’s hurting.”

“So then don’t be.” I shrug. “It’s that simple.”

WILDER

Everyone is asleep when I wake up to grab a drink, but Maeve’s bed is empty.

Frowning, I search the dark room in case I missed her.

Sometimes she’s in the bed with Logan, but he’s spread out, snoring.

Way and Aiyaret are curled up together on another bed, and Rick is hanging from a sofa, but she’s nowhere in sight.

Slipping from the room, I stride down the silent corridor.

Everyone else is gone at this hour, with only a skeleton staff.

The room next to ours is technically Maeve’s, but she hasn’t spent a night there since Logan woke up.

I check there first, though. Sliding open the door, I scan the semi-dark room.

The soft neon lights inlaid around the bottom of the walls just give off enough illumination for me to see shapes, and there is a lump in the bed.

Closing the door silently, I tread closer, in case it’s Maeve’s dad or Ajax, but the person looks too small to be either. The blanket is up over the person’s head, like a cocoon, and it seems to be shaking.

I pause beside them, listening hard, and I hear soft sniffles, like they are trying to hold back their tears.

Gripping the blanket, I rip it back, and she gasps as she turns over, her eyes bloodshot and puffy.

Maeve stares up at me in horror. “Get out!” She grabs the blanket and tries to cover herself, but I hold it until we are playing tug-of-war.

Smirking, I watch her struggle, and she swears and lets it go, rolling over and giving me her back.

“I’m not in the mood, Wilder,” she warns, her voice quiet, and it chases the last of my amusement away.

I sit on the edge of the bed, grab her shoulder, and try to turn her to face me, but she resists, so I stop. “I’m sorry. I was worried.”

She stiffens under my touch and then slowly turns to look at me, her eyes brimming with tears that fall silently down her cheeks. Her chin wobbles as she tries to stop.

Fuck, that look . . . It burns me to my core.

I slide my hand down and grip hers. “Talk to me, Carter. What’s going on? Did something happen?” I ask, my voice softer than it’s ever been.

For a moment, I don’t know if she’ll answer.

“Talk to me, Carter. I’ll fix it.”

“You can’t. I don’t even know,” she answers around her sniffles. “It’s like everything has caught up to me, and I needed to get out of that room. I couldn’t stop—” Shaking her head, she covers her face.

My brow furrows. This isn’t like Maeve, but she’s been through a lot, so it makes sense that all of her strength would eventually crumble. With a gentle grip, I tug her hands from her face and wrap my fingers around her wrists when she tries to escape me again.

“Carter, stop.” She keeps struggling, and we fall back, her eyes wide as we both freeze. Her hands are still in mine, and I’m pinning her down. Every inch of me is touching her. I sit up, not wanting to put pressure on her bad leg, and she stares up at me, looking so lost and confused.

“Come here, baby.” Gathering her into my arms, I lean back on the bed. She remains stiff at first before relaxing. Her hands fist my shirt before she buries her face in the fabric and cries for everything that happened, everything she endured and saw.

“That first night I cried so hard I threw up,” I murmur. “Everyone else was asleep, but I was so scared for Logan and what it meant. I couldn’t let anyone else see.”

Her head lifts, and she meets my eyes. “Wilder crying? I don’t believe it.”

“I’ll take a picture next time,” I tease.

“All I’m saying, baby, is that this is normal.

You were running on adrenaline on that island, we all were, and we endured things we could never even begin to explain to other people.

Thinking we were going to die nearly every moment of every day takes its toll, so if you need to cry, then cry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Gee, thanks,” she grumbles and smiles. I wipe her face before she lowers her head.

“Don’t worry. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to fighting you,” I tease, and she smiles through her tears.

“Okay, tomorrow,” she murmurs as she lies back down.

Resting my head on top of hers, I hold her tighter, my heartbeat easing in my chest. I’m always so worried about what tomorrow will bring and how I can keep my family safe, but in this moment, with her in my arms, I feel like I can breathe for the first time ever.