Page 22 of Martyr (Sterling Falls Rogues #3)

Lyssa is asleep.

The good kind, luckily. It’s actually much noisier than her comatose form. Her chest rises and falls less evenly, her lips are parted, and she occasionally shifts and twitches.

We had a chat before her eyes got heavy. I held her hand. Maybe I cried a little—sue me.

Dr. Hawthorne comes in and takes stock of the room, then tips her head toward the door.

I let Lyssa’s hand slide from mine and follow her into the hall.

“How are you holding up, Mr. Laurent?” she asks, her voice and expression full of concern.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Trying to wrap my head around reality.”

She nods in understanding. “Lyssa has a long road ahead of her. Physical therapy, in tandem with talk therapy… she’s awake, but her journey has only gotten more complex.”

“Right.”

“She needs to build up her muscles and learn how to use her body again. It’s a great sign that she is talking and seems cognizant of where she is.”

“Because she used to live here.”

Dr. Hawthorne pauses. “Yes, well, from my understanding there was quite a bit of trauma between that stay and the start of this one.”

“Yes.” I clear my throat. “I want what’s best for her. If we need to fly in a specialist—do it. Whatever it takes.”

“Don’t expect overnight miracles, Mr. Laurent.”

“I’m not.”

She smiles. “Should I expect you to stick around for a while, then? The moral support will be a huge factor. And continued support throughout her treatment. Of course, I don’t expect you to be here every day. Checking in on her, however… I know you’re good for that.”

“I’ll be here until work tears me away.”

My voice is steady, but work is just a euphemism for Ouranos . He allowed me the time off to check on my sister, but I’m almost certain he did not expect me to still be here. My phone was left in the boat, which means it’s currently at the bottom of the harbor.

Fuck . He’s probably tried to call—and I didn’t even consider that until right this moment. Talk about being distracted. By three troublemakers: Saint and Artemis and Reese.

“Speaking of work, I need to check in, and my phone isn’t working. Can I borrow yours?”

Dr. Hawthorne leads me to her office and gestures to the landline at her desk. “Dial nine first to get an outside line.”

She leaves me alone, and I sit at her desk. Was it really only yesterday that I was sitting in this office considering breaking into the filing cabinet? And then Saint walked in…

I shake my head and dial the number I was forced to memorize.

It rings twice, then Ouranos’ cold voice answers, “Not many people have this private number.”

“Luckily, you gave it to me,” I reply.

He pauses. “I suppose you have an explanation for both your absence and lack of contact?”

“I do.” I make a face, grateful that the office is empty and Ouranos isn’t standing in front of me. “The marina suffered an incident. And with it, transportation on and off this island.”

He doesn’t respond.

“And, unfortunately, my phone was on the boat. I suspect it’s keeping the fish company now.”

“Your plan?” he clips out.

“Wait for the coast guard to clear the area and get a ferry in here. Get the fuck off this island.”

Ouranos sighs. “You’re valuable, Kade, but I do hope you know that lying makes my skin crawl. What aren’t you saying?”

I shift in the chair. Since I met him, he’s had the uncanny ability to see through people. There’s never any use lying—he’ll catch it. And apparently, that’s also true for phone calls.

“There’s been a development with my sister.” I leave the rest hanging, unsure if Ouranos would let that information slip to Gabriel.

I kind of doubt it—he’s not known for spilling secrets unless it serves him. However, this secret might serve him. It could unravel Gabriel even more.

“Your sibling has fully distracted you.” His voice is hard. “Meanwhile, you have not found the man who killed my brother.”

Saint Hart .

Found him, nearly stole him away. Kissed him.

Thought about fucking him…

Thought about fucking him while he fucks Artemis.

My mind spiraled, but whatever. I’ve never been with a man and woman before. The only complicating factor is that Saint can’t seem to stand her at the moment.

“I expect results,” Ouranos says when I don’t reply. “Distractions aside—you know your job.”

“I do. And…” I hesitate. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I’m able.”

“See that you are.”

Click .

The line goes dead in my ear, but I’m slower to set the phone back on its receiver. I pick it right back up and dial again. Unsurprisingly, it goes straight to voicemail. An automated voice reads out the number, then prompts me to leave a message.

“I’m in paradise,” I say. “My phone’s out of commission, but don’t call this one back. There’s nothing new to report. I’ll be back to Sterling Falls soon.”

I hang up and head back to Lyssa’s room, checking that she’s still asleep. There’s no sign of Dr. Hawthorne or anyone else, and my stomach cramps. It’s only then that I register the dark sky and how late it’s gotten.

I spent the whole day here.

Shaking my head, vaguely annoyed at myself, I grab my coat from the back of the chair in Lyssa’s room and shrug it on.

The walk back to the cabin is cold. It starts off relatively refreshing, the frozen air prickling my lungs with every deep inhale.

Warm clouds billow out in front of me on my exhales.

Snowflakes begin to fall, and my shoulders and head are blanketed in a dusting of white powder by the time I climb the porch steps and stamp my boots.

From the windows emanates a low, flickering light. There was smoke coming from the chimney.

Good to know one of them is competent enough to start a fire.

I let myself in and kick off my boots, finding them all in the living room. Reese has the chair, Artemis is sprawled on one side of the couch, and Saint takes up the other side. Not the formation I expected, given Saint’s attitude.

They all look over at me.

“Just in time,” Artemis says. “We were going to send out a search party.”

A smile ghosts my lips. “Were you?”

“No,” she admits. “We were going to start cooking dinner, though.”

My stomach lets out another unfortunately timed growl.

“Careful,” Reese laughs. “Kade gets hangry. He might be worse than Saint.”

Saint’s nostrils flare. “I don’t?—”

“You definitely do.” Artemis sits up straighter. The blanket on her lap shifts, revealing the smooth, golden skin of her upper leg. No pants—there’s tight fabric visible. Briefs, perhaps. “Pizza?”

I narrow my eyes at Saint’s disgusted expression. “You don’t like pizza, Hart?”

He jerks around. “It’s not my favorite.”

I shake my head. “Only psychopaths don’t like pizza.”

Reese bursts out laughing, and Artemis slaps her thigh. She points at me, an uncharacteristically relaxed smile curving her lips. “See? He gets it.”

My chest swells. It seems they’ve had this conversation before, and I passed some unspoken test. I shake it off, not wanting to seem excited by that fact, and head into the kitchen. I was gone by the time Saint and Reese came back from town with supplies.

“Any problems?” I call.

“Nope,” Reese replies. His footsteps signal his approach, and he leans against the edge of the counter while I examine what’s in the fridge. “Plenty of gossip about what happened. So far, no one’s connecting that it was on purpose. They think it was an accident that got out of control.”

I snort. People are so… innocent . Or maybe naive is a better word. It’s easier for them to believe that a bunch of boats just happened to blow up—along with the docks and the whole infrastructure of the marina—than to consider that someone violent is among them.

“Should make it easier to get out of here when they clear the area,” he adds.

“Back to Sterling Falls?”

Reese inches closer. He puts a palm to the fridge door and closes it, so there’s nothing between us. “We’re going to stop Ouranos, brother.”

Brother . Gabriel calls me that, sometimes. But I believe it more coming from Reese. We’ve known each other longer, been through war together. Literally . We’ve fought together.

“I see the gears in your head spinning.” Reese stares at me. “Help us.”

My mouth opens and closes.

“If you won’t switch sides, at least give us something to make it a fair fight.”

They don’t know Ouranos. They might research him, track down his history, but it’s one thing reading about it and another entirely to understand the man who lived it. Fighting him is like fighting a mountain.

He’ll bury them without a thought.