Page 3

3

Courtesy of Mr. Chase

M y heart fluttering in outright elation, a greater high than even the morphine had delivered, Griffin’s declaration— I’m in love with Joss —looped giddily through my mind multiple times before I realized everyone was silent in the face of it.

Too silent. Unnervingly silent.

My friends were so rarely quiet it could only mean one thing: my fear had been realized. Griffin and I falling in love had ruined everything. We were in the process of ripping our crew apart. We’d broken a cardinal rule of our friendship—don’t date each other and make things weird—and now the only people in the entire world I could actually rely on were divided. The only people I truly loved with all my heart were no longer one indivisible unit. No longer a fully bonded family .

Fuuuuuuck . My buoyant heart shifted gears on a dime and now barreled toward a shattering I wasn’t sure I’d survive. And at the very worst time possible: when we had real enemies hunting us. When our lives were being turned upside down so incredibly savagely. When even our parents had betrayed us, and we found ourselves all alone fighting for our ultimate survival.

Griff’s declaration continued echoing in my mind, fulfilling a desire I’d had longer than I’d earlier admitted to myself. I sighed loudly. A devastated lament was already worming into my veins to circle my body along with the IV fluids.

“Why, Griff?” I asked softly. “Why’d you have to do this now of all times? You could’ve waited some more, till things were better. Easier at least.”

He was squeezing my hand when Hunt’s astute stare pinned both of us. “You’ve been hiding it from us?”

“Damn, guys,” Layla added with a disappointed shake of her head, making my heart plummet along with my already churning stomach. “Seriously? After everything we’ve been through together, you’re keeping secrets from us? About this , no less?”

Wanting to rip off the bandage all at once, I looked to Brady, who scowled at Griff and me so intensely that his nostrils flared. With jerky movements, he crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging with tension from under his scrubs.

He didn’t have to say anything for me to understand. They were all on the same page. Griffin and I were on a different one. What had once been a perfect book was now split in half, a beautiful story forever ruined, its beginning separated from its end. No more happy ending.

Griffin chuckled—fucking chuckled— and I whipped my head around to gawk at his profile. Had he lost his damn mind? Had resurrection after death messed with his head?

Rubbing my hand in what seemed like a gesture of comfort, he told the others (with yet another laugh, the crazy fucker), “It’s not like that, guys. We’re only just figuring it out ourselves. We told you practically before we told each other.”

Layla narrowed her eyes, again shining an angry blue. “But you already told each other. And didn’t tell us.”

“Yeah, but not like you’re thinking. I told her right before I went over the cliff in Clyde.”

“That was weeks ago.”

“It was, but I don’t think Joss got it then. Not how I really meant it. We all love each other.”

The others waited for more, so Griffin continued. “I probably wouldn’t’ve even said it if I hadn’t realized I was about to die. But it just kinda slipped out. Like I had to say it in case I never got another chance.”

My subdued heartbeat accelerated once more.

“We didn’t even talk about it after. Then, when Joss realized she was about to die in the gym, she said it to me. Told me she loved me. I wasn’t sure if she meant it the way I wanted her to since we all do love each other—as friends, you know. But then when she woke up just now, I asked her about it. When she explained it’s more than friends for her too, I told you guys right away.”

“Even before you fucking told me,” I grumbled, my thoughts slipping out unintentionally.

Layla’s burning stare heated my face for several moments before she barked a laugh. “Damn, Joss. You’re pouting. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What the hell’re you talking about?” Brady said, uncrossing his arms and crossing his ankles as he continued to lean against the side of the bed. “She pouts all the time.”

“I do not,” I protested automatically.

“Do too,” Brady said. “But apparently it does the trick for our boy.”

Gingerly, Hunt leaned back in his armchair and spread his long legs out in front of him. He looked at Griff, then me, then Griff again. “All right.”

“All right?” I asked, feeling my forehead scrunch.

“Yeah. All right.”

My brow pinched. “All right what?”

He looked at me like I was the one who’d lost my damn mind. “Allright. What do you need me to spell out for you here?”

My chin dropped. “You don’t have a problem with … ?” I glanced at the side of Griff’s face, which was all I could see from where I lay. His features were even, steady. Okay, then . “With whatever this is between … ?” I’d barely even allowed myself to think about the two of us as a couple. I gulped, my throat still tender. “Between the two of us?”

Layla snorted. “Oh my God, this is gonna be so good. If Joss is this flustered just talking about it, can you imagine what she’s gonna be like when they start doing it?” She rubbed her hands together, a devilish expression on her face. “Can’t wait. This is gonna be so lit.”

I shook my head to clear it, but my brow wouldn’t unfurrow. “Wait. You guys are seriously okay with this? Like, for real?”

“Sure,” Brady said lightly. “You’re our peeps. Happy for you.”

I shook my head again. But nope, what they were saying remained as unbelievable as before.

“Well,” I started to say, before devolving into a stupefied, “Wow.”

Layla laughed. “What? Did you think we’d crucify you for falling in love with each other?”

I met her eyes.

She frowned. “That’s really what you think of us? That we wouldn’t want you guys to be happy?”

“I know you guys want us to be happy. Of course you do. But, well, I thought it would mess with our friendship. That you guys would be mega pissed.” More quietly, I added, “That it’d blow up everything most important to me.”

“Nah, girl. We saw it coming.”

My brows jumped up my forehead. My face had probably never been this animated. “You did? How? I didn’t even see it coming.”

She snorted. “Dude, we aren’t blind you know. We see how you guys look at each other, especially when you think no one’s paying attention.”

“Yep,” Hunt said.

A smirk tipping up one side of his mouth, Brady nodded. “Especially when we’ve been drinking or toking. You really drop your guard then.”

“For real,” Layla said. “I was just waiting for little cartoon hearts to pop up in your eyes.”

“Why … why’d you never say anything?”

“Why should we? It was your business, not ours.”

At that, we all laughed. Brady actually guffawed, saying, “Sticking your nose in other people’s business is your jam , Lay.”

“Is not.” But a moment later even she laughed. “All right, fine, it is. But I love you guys.” Her eyes jumped from me to Griff. “I didn’t want to do anything to mess this up for you.”

“Thanks, Lay,” Griff said, cool as a crispy cucumber. “’Preciate that.”

“Besides, it was worth it just to see Joss’s face now. Fucking priceless.”

“I thought I was gonna lose you all!”

“No way, man,” Hunt said. “You can never lose us.”

“That’s right,” Brady agreed.

“And you don’t need me to tell you,” Layla said. “You and me, we’re sisters from other misters.” She tipped her head. “Now that we’re crossing lines though, maybe Hunt and I should start getting frisky with each other.”

Hunt just laughed.

She swiveled toward him in her chair, arching a single brow in unspoken menace. Tartly, she asked, “Are you saying you don’t wanna tap this ?” With a sweep of her hand, she gestured to the length of her body.

He brought up both hands, palms facing her. “Oh no. I’m not saying any such thing. I wouldn’t dare. All I’m saying is, I’m not fireproof, so I make it a point not to play with fire.”

Layla was tilting her head one way then the next, as if deciding whether calling her fire was a good thing or not, while Hunt squirmed.

Out of all of us, he was the last to squirm.

“Just ’cause it seems we’re likely to survive dying by fire doesn’t make us fireproof. It just makes us ‘dead’ proof.” He rubbed his chin as if considering the many ramifications of our apparent undying state.

Slowly, Layla rose to her feet, dismissed the walking stick, and shuffled toward my bed. “Come on, girl. I’ll help you with your bandages. I won’t go lesbo on you, promise, even though you do have some fine titties. Not as fine as mine, of course, but you win second prize.”

She sat on the opposite side of the bed from Griffin, telling him, “Move. Better your first time seeing them isn’t like this, and we need to figure out how well she’s healing. Just in case, you know …”

Regrettably, I got the feeling we all understood precisely what she was referencing.

In case someone tried to kill us—yet again.

But before Layla could so much as lean toward me, the door swung open and in prowled two guards with guns raised, the same guards who, days ago, had taken off their gas masks and offered up the defibrillators with a casual, “Courtesy of Mr. Chase.”

Griffin and Brady rocketed to standing, and Hunt was only seconds behind. Layla inched protectively closer to me while I eyed my IV drip line, considering how quickly I could yank it out, unfasten the blood pressure cuff, and get my feet under me.

Not fast enough. Definitely not faster than a bullet or five.

“Easy,” cautioned the bastard with the blue eyes who’d pointed his gun at my face in the gym. “Take it easy.”

Gun on a swivel, he kept the door at his back and stationed himself several feet away from Hunt, who was closest.

The second soldier slid out from behind him and lined himself up with a wall at his back, his gun also trained on us.

“Don’t so much as move,” Bastard continued. “I don’t even want to see a muscle twitch or I’ll shoot. You got me?”

Oh, we got him all right. I could practically feel the five of us vibrating. I had no doubt the guys were going to jump Bastard the very instant they got a clear opportunity.

Brady growled, then said, “You killed my friends. You killed my sister. You killed me.” A vein bulged in his neck. Brady was one smooth move away from charging, Neanderthal style.

Our stares were fixed on the men with the guns, waiting. Anticipating. Calculating.

Whereas in the gym I’d experienced fear—for my friends and for myself—now I felt none of it. My desire for righteous justice, and yes, maybe also a fair helping of vengeance, was so strong as to crowd out everything else.

If Bastard and his fellow soldier managed to kill one of us, more likely than not we’d come back. If we managed to kill either of them, they wouldn’t. Even though we found ourselves on the wrong end of the weapons, we still had a certain advantage over them.

Brady cracked his knuckles as if preparing to tear them limb from limb. Suddenly, I wanted that and, for a swift moment, I allowed myself to fantasize about leaping from this bed and snapping their stupid fucking necks, how satisfying it would be to break their spines.

“You will not move, got it?” Bastard pressed. “You’ll stay right where you are.”

We didn’t respond beyond a rumble rising up Griffin’s throat.

“You will do nothing to threaten Mr. Chase or you’ll get a bullet to the chest.”

Oh, so we were about to see the asshole himself, were we?

The smile that spread over my lips was spitting mean in a way it had never been before.

In a seductive purr, I said, “We can hardly wait.”

Bastard was obviously a poor judge of character, facial cues, and voice intonation, because he called over his shoulder, “It’s clear.”

Quietly, so as not to draw attention to my movements, I eased open the Velcro on my cuff. Layla slid down my covers. When my feet slipped onto the floor, Brady and Griffin were already rushing Bastard, their arms reaching to tackle him to the carpet. Hunt made the most of those long legs of his, sprinting toward the second guy as if he’d never been killed and resurrected.

Shots rang out, too loud in the confined space, and I desperately searched for where they’d hit.

The men were locked in struggle and I couldn’t tell if anyone had been hurt. Then Magnum Chase strode into the room as if he were as invincible as we were.

“It’s in your best interest to stop and listen to what I have to say.”

The men merely grunted, wrestling and rolling across the floor, smashing into the small table. The water pitcher and glasses came crashing down, shards flying in all directions. Chase looked on, unimpressed, unaffected. Impassive. Like an entitled psycho.

“I promise you will want to hear what I have to say.”

I hated it, but he was right. I did want to hear what he had to say. Nearly as much as I wanted to murder him, I wanted to understand.

And apparently, so did the others. Griffin, Brady, and Hunt disentangled themselves from the soldiers, bloodied and breathing hard. Hunt was holding a gun.