Page 13 of Ramshackle (Raegan of Ruin #3)

Chapter thirteen

Raegan

“That’s my good pet.”

“You’re safe now.”

“No one else cares about you.”

“ You can wake up.”

“It would be better for you to be alone.”

“Please, Rae. Open your eyes.”

“No one needs you.”

“We all need you. You have to wake up.”

“You are nobody.”

The words echoing in my head are confusing. Why would Gordon be saying these things? But when I listen harder, there’s a second voice. One that I haven’t heard in a while, but I’d still recognize anywhere.

And there’s something restraining my hand. I jerk it to test its resistance, and it flies back easily. My eyes jolt open to the sight of Dane leaning on his elbows at the edge of the bed, his hands partially open.

His entire face lights up in a smile I haven’t seen him wear since we were stupid kids. “You’re awake!” I can hear the relief in his tone, but he keeps his voice to a quiet murmur so it doesn’t startle me.

I’m still a bit shocked.

By his smile.

By the fact that Dane , of all people, is here with me and the one who I think was asking me to wake up.

And the key detail that he’s either on the island with me, or I’ve been rescued. Or else…

“Am I dead?” I ask him in all seriousness.

His smile falls and he reaches for me, but I pull away just enough to avoid his touch that he stops. “No. You’re at the bunker. I’m sorry it took so long, but we finally found you and brought you back.”

I stroke down my neck without being stopped by the collar, then push myself upright slowly to take stock of my injuries and frown when I don’t feel any of them.

I gingerly brush my jaw where Gordon had just punched me. Then slip my hand around to feel my lower back. I’m in some sort of large shirt, so I slide underneath it to feel the skin there. It’s not in pain or tender, but I can still feel the rough edges of a scar. Probably more.

My knee aches the same, but other than that and my back, all I feel is an overwhelming heaviness in my body. My mind is awake, if a bit groggy, but my body is still looking for more rest.

“Do you want me to get the others?” Dane asks softly when I don’t say anything more.

I feel the sudden urge to pee and shift my legs over the opposite side of the bed from him, looking up to check that the bathroom is still where I remember it. It’s dark in the room, with only a single lamp on in the corner to add any light while the shades over the large window to the rest of the bunker are drawn. We’re underground, so it’s impossible to tell what time it is. Regardless of the time, the last thing I want is everyone in here while I’m just…not sure how to feel yet. About anything.

I throw the blankets off and test my leg strength to try standing. “No,” I answer finally. “I just…I need a minute.” Or a million.

It’s hard to wrap my head around what I went through. And that they came to save me. Why? And what about Vera? How long was I gone for? Does this mean Gordon is going to hunt them down and kill them? Are they all in danger now?

I grit my teeth together and wobble to a stand.

“Here—” Dane starts to move, and I raise my hand to stop him.

“No. I’m fine. I can pee by myself.”

Dane backs off, but I can feel his eyes on me the entire slow walk to the bathroom. I’m three quarters of the way there when my bad knee gives out, and I drop.

Strong hands grab and lift me before I hit the ground. “I’ve got you, little one,” a husky voice murmurs in my ear. A cushion of air pushes under my feet, and then I’m cradled in Jackson’s arms.

It’s dark enough in the room that I can barely make out his outline and that he has his hood pulled up as usual. His hands are gentle but firm in the way they hold me against him. I grip his hoodie and then lean my head into him with eyes closed.

I’m so relieved he’s here. He’s alive and well, from what I can see so far. I told myself so many times that he couldn’t die. He wouldn’t.

My hand trembles in its hold on him. I feel the urge to cry, to sob against him as I run my hands over the front of his hoodie to check for myself that he really is here, but the tears don’t come. I’m back, but the numbness of it all hasn’t worn off yet.

Neither of us speaks for the remainder of the walk to the toilet before he carefully sets me back on my feet. I give him a few seconds to leave now that I’m here, and when he doesn’t, my lips turn down. “I’ve got it from here, Jack.”

He flicks the light on, and I cringe away from its brightness. It takes several blinks to acclimate before I can open them enough to look at him again.

Jackson looks the same as before the fight on the island. Black attire from head to toe, in his combat boots, pants, and hoodie. His piercing blue eyes are pinned on me with the force of a thousand stares. It’s a stare that sends a shiver running through me, but I don’t look away. It doesn’t unnerve me like it might others.

It makes me feel alive.

You’re worthless .

Important.

No one cares about you.

Irreplaceable.

It gives me strength when my own doesn’t seem like enough anymore.

The longer our stare holds, the quieter Gordon’s voice in my head becomes. I’d keep it going forever if I could, but my body urgently reminds me of what I’m supposed to be doing, and I regretfully pull my gaze free of his. “Can you give me a minute?”

His lips pull into a smirk that I know spells trouble. He closes the bathroom door.

With him still inside.

He does turn to face the door with his back to me, but that does nothing to hide the sounds I’m going to make that I am not ready to share with anyone still. If ever.

“Jack...” I start with a sigh, but he just waves his hand to tell me to go on. The very idea of fighting him on it exhausts me.

I have a feeling my shadow is going to be keeping this close to me for a while.

Defeated, I do my business and pretend that he’s not in the room with me. I can’t imagine him bringing this up to anyone else or even me in the future, so I decide to get over it and move on.

As I’m wrapping up, he keeps his back to me and turns on the shower. The mirror shows what a mess I am, although I’m better than I thought I’d be after the last time I’d been awake. Any blood I’d had on me is gone. But my hair is greasy and flat on my head, telling me how long it’s been since I’ve properly washed.

Jackson’s checking the temperature of the shower with his hand when I turn around. “Thanks,” I murmur softly. My body is ready to crash again, but I know I’ll feel a lot better if I’m clean first.

He reaches over his head and strips his hoodie free, undressing down to boxers. My mouth goes dry as I watch him take his time before me. As I re-catalogue all his black and gray tattoos that mark his chest and arms. The paper crane over his chest that calls to me to run my fingers across it.

He steps closer and reaches for me. I jerk back.

Something dark flickers in his gaze, and I’m afraid I’ve upset him, but he holds his hand out to me instead. “It’s me.” He keeps his hand outstretched, palm up between us.

I stare at it.

I’m not afraid of him or what he might do.

I’m ashamed of myself. Of the things I’ve done again. I nearly lost myself and all of them. He would be so disappointed if he found out.

And I broke our promise to each other.

He should be furious with me. I would be if he’d done the same.

“Raegan.”

His voice snaps the present back in focus where I’m still looking at his hand as if I’m waiting for him to take it back at any moment. It doesn’t move, though.

It’s me.

Jackson.

My hand slowly slides over his. His fingers curl around it, and then he gently tugs me closer to him. He lifts my chin to capture my gaze in his, holding me there as I feel his hands trailing from my thighs up my hips, up my sides. Until my body moves at his silent direction so he can peel the shirt over my head and arms.

Our eye contact is broken for a second, but he’s right there again to keep me focused before I can blink. He takes his time to remove my underwear next until I’m completely naked in front of him.

He guides me into the shower, and I follow him like I’m under his spell. I’m as safe as I’ve ever been when his eyes are on me. I’m brought into the spray while he stands behind it, not avoiding getting himself wet in his boxers but keeping it primarily on me.

Jack lathers up the soap in his hands and starts spreading it over my skin in smooth, deliberate circles. His touch is soft, working it in like a gentle massage. My muscles sing beneath his touch, aching for more, but my mind isn’t ready for more than this yet.

When he gets to my hair, turning my back to him and practically leaning against him, my eyes close of their own accord the moment his fingers sink into my scalp.

I’m grateful for the quiet.

He doesn’t ask me any questions or even try to talk about stupid things. I don’t want to talk. I want time. I want quiet.

He’s giving me all of that and taking care of my body so I can focus on my mind, and it’s better than anything I could have hoped for. I’m not ready to see the others yet. I would have refused him if he hadn’t already been in the room. But now I’m glad he was there and that I’m getting this time to myself, even if I’m not really alone.

It’s that thought that breaks the first tear free.

I’m not alone.

I couldn’t do it by myself, but I’m not alone anymore. They came for me.

I shudder as the feelings I’d locked away for so long release, and then the tears fall in steady, silent tracks down my face. Jackson can’t see, being behind me and focusing on my hair, so I don’t bother trying to restrain them. I’ve done that for so long that it’s like a purge of emotion that’s welling up inside of me and then bursting free until my body shakes and quivers uncontrollably.

Arms wrap around me from behind, holding me tight as my body convulses through the pain, and my knees buckle. His strength controls our descent to the tile floor as he keeps me with him.

He holds me like that until the tears run dry, even though my body still shakes and wishes for more.

He holds me until I struggle awkwardly to stand, helping me back to my feet, and then continues to do it until I can draw a normal breath.

Only then does he let me go to finish washing my hair.

He doesn’t say a word during any of it.

Neither do I.

The shower is turned off after he’s finished, and he leads me out to begin drying me off with a towel. There’s a set of pajamas on the floor in front of the door that he brings over and helps me into.

Jackson proceeds to finger-comb my hair once I’m dressed, and I can feel the soft air flowing behind me. It’s a mere minute or two and my wet hair is dry.

He dresses back in his clothes, drying himself with his gift first before layering himself up again. He leaves his hood down this time so I can see the wild nature of his black hair and have a clear view of his face. He smiles at me when he catches me staring, and I hurriedly look away.

Jack takes my hand in his at his side, interlocking our fingers together, before opening the door and bringing us back into the room.

Dane’s head pops up as soon as he hears the door, his face etched with concern as he looks me over. He’s still in one of the upholstered sofa chairs next to the bed, but there’s a tray in front of him and the bed looks freshly made.

He stands up. “I, uh, told the others you were awake. But I said you weren’t ready to see everyone yet and still needed rest.” His hand sweeps over the changes on the bed. “Kell came in quick to change out your sheets when I told them you were in the shower. Aiden brought you new clothes and had soup and bread prepared in case you’re hungry. Oh, and water. Cassandra said you need to drink a lot of water when you’re not sleeping.”

I’m speechless.

Why?

Jack nudges me forward, and my clumsy feet finally get me to the bed with his help. He pulls the sheets down for me to climb in while Dane stuffs a pile of pillows behind my back so I can sit up. He sets the tray over my legs and Jackson hop-sails over to the other sofa chair to sit on its back.

I feel like I should say something, but I’m a little stunned at what’s happening. Like the current tab in my mind that relates to speech is frozen and spinning in circles.

The smell of soup draws me in, and my stomach growls angrily in response. I pick up the spoon and take the first mouthful. It’s potato and bacon. My favorite.

Did Aiden remember that from when we were on the island, or is it just a coincidence?

I dig in like a starved animal. It must have been at least a day or two since they rescued me because I feel like I haven’t eaten in days. Shoveling the soup and roll into my mouth keeps that occupied as well, so neither Jack nor Dane try asking me any questions or talking to me.

Having both of their attention while I eat is a bit unnerving, though. Jackson’s focus, I expect. But Dane’s?

I use the last bite of bread to soak up what’s left of the soup along the inside of the bowl. Once I’ve washed it all down with the cup of water, Dane takes my glass and refills it with a pitcher he has on the side table next to him.

“Thanks,” I mumble when he hands it back to me. I take a sip and set the glass back down. I’m clean and fed, and now my body wants to disappear under the covers before anything else can get in the way of that. But I need at least a few answers before I can give in.

I take another look around the room I’m in. It’s the same layout as the one Aiden had locked me in, but there’s an air mattress set up in the corner. Other than that, I don’t see anything to clue me in on why we’re here or what happened while I was gone.

“Where’s Vera?” I ask first, my voice coming out slow and tentative. Part of our bargain revolved around her being able to stay with Dane while I was gone. Now that I’m back…

Dane’s expression darkens to something else. “She’s gone,” he answers. “We tried locking her up before we rescued you so we could still keep her around, but she escaped.”

Escaped. Which means he hadn’t been able to get through to her in their time together. She’s still a pawn of GE’s. I knew it was a long shot that she could be convinced away from them, but Dane deserved that chance to try. “Dane, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” he cuts in, his hand fisting on the bed and his jaw tense. “I should be the one...” He releases a frustrated breath. “You gave me a chance. And time with her that I never thought I’d have again. It’s my fault that I wasn’t able to break her out of whatever hold those scumbags have on her. You gave me that time, and I couldn’t fucking do it.” Dane drops his head. “I’m sorry.”

His words trip a memory that gives me pause. Hold on her. Thorne. Royce . “Dane, about that…”

He holds my hand. “Don’t worry about that right now. What matters is that you’re here and you’re safe. I’m not going to fight to get her back just to lose you to them, too. No more sacrifices, Rae. It’s my turn to look out for you. Whatever I can do…whatever you need…I’ll do it. Anything.”

I swallow down what I was going to say. I can feel my eyelids getting heavy and my brain beginning to wind down as the food settles and my need for rest begins to take over. Later. I’ll tell him later. I offer him a brief nod instead, to which he smiles softly.

“Good. You should get some more sleep. I know we all have questions for each other, but Cassandra said not to bother you right after you wake up.” Dane releases my hand and takes the tray away, then begins pulling pillows so I can scoot myself down in the bed.

As I’m shimmying under the covers, the mattress dips. Jackson slides beneath the sheets in a shirt and briefs with a small smile. He wraps his arms around me, holding me to his chest and smelling like crisp autumn air. I grip his shirt, breathing him in like he’s the only oxygen I need, letting his calm presence soothe me.

Even though I’m still buzzing with questions, the tiredness wins out within seconds of getting comfortable.