Page 42

Tory

After Levi lifted off in the chopper with Jaxson and Onyx, I stood there like a pilot without a plane. I needed a shower, and about ten hours of sleep, minimum. But my brain had other plans. No way was I switching off anytime soon.

But it wasn’t just the adrenaline. It was him .

The way Jaxson had looked at me before they took off, like he didn’t want to go. Like he didn’t want to leave me.

And that made my insides tingle in ways I was not used to.

The last two days had been a mess of chaos, threats, and enough close calls to last a lifetime.

Scariest stretch of my life, no question.

But Jaxson had been solid through it all.

Calm, focused, didn’t flinch when things got ugly.

He was the steady to my spiraling. The kind of guy who ran toward the danger while the rest of us were still figuring out where it was coming from.

A proper hero. Not that he would ever call himself that.

I wanted to see more of him. Preferably when there weren’t bullets flying or muddy swamps to crawl through. Maybe we could go for a coffee. Or dinner. Or watch a romantic thriller while we ate popcorn and let my cats crawl all over us. Something normal.

The last guy who asked me out ended the night by trying to impress me with his crypto portfolio and a tattoo of his own initials. I had a talent for attracting the absolute worst.

But Jaxson felt different.

Still dangerous . . . just not in the ‘run for your life’ kind of way.

More like ‘lean in and let’s see what happens.’

And that might be even scarier.

“Hey, you okay?” Whisper’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She stepped up beside me on the front verandah of the old schoolhouse and swept me up with her dark, almost black eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Jeez, thanks,” I muttered, shooting her a dry look as I tried to scrape my fingers through my knotty hair.

She smirked. “Oh, hold up. I see that look in your eye.”

“What look?”

“The look that tells me you and Jaxson got a little cozy out there?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Oh yeah, real cozy,” I said, “in that bloody swamp with armed bastards trying to kill us. Super romantic.”

Her laugh was warm, and before I could protest, she hooked her arm through mine and started guiding me back inside. “Sometimes getting dirty is the best way to get to know someone.”

I chuckled. Whisper would know. She and Cody had spent four days lost in the Daintree Rainforest together. They’d gone in as strangers who barely tolerated each other and come out battered, bruised, and head-over-heels in love.

Our stories weren’t all that different. Maybe there was something about high-stress, life-or-death situations that fast-tracked relationships. Or maybe they just stripped everything down to the ugly truth. No makeup or fancy clothes. No delicious meal to cause a distraction. Just raw and real.

By the time we reached the kitchen, Yasmin was already cleaning up the leftover food. She looked up and smiled. “Hey, luvvy. You want a coffee, shower, or sleep?”

I huffed, leaning against the back of a bar stool as Charlie sniffed my leg. God knew what scents she was picking up from the mud over me. “All of the above.”

“Perfect.” Yasmin tossed a dishcloth into the sink. “Let me grab you a towel. Follow me.”

As I trailed after Yasmin, Whisper slipped in behind us.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked.

“They practically sprinted to those boxes,” Whisper joked.

“Can’t blame them,” I said, rubbing at the back of my neck. “I can’t wait to see what was so important in them for that bitch to want to burn the orphanage down.”

“I’m sure some of it won’t be easy to read.” Whisper’s tone sobered. “Those boxes weren’t part of the official records, so I’m sure there are some truly sad stories in them.”

I nodded as the weight of that scenario sank in.

My experience as an orphan had been very different to what went on in that place.

Mine was full of love, safety, and kindness from the people who took me in after my parents died.

I was one of the lucky ones, and it’s a pity that all orphans didn’t have a story like mine.

Yasmin stopped in front of a closed door with her hand resting lightly on the knob. She turned to me with a soft smile. “Come and meet my brother.”

She pushed the door open and swept inside like she was heading onto a dance floor.

“Jayden, we’ve got visitors!” she chirped. “Whisper’s here, and our Border Force pilot friend, Tory.”

She gestured to us like we’d all been friends for years and were just stopping by for a chat.

At the center of the room rested a hospital bed.

Jayden lay face-up, arms at his sides, his chest rising and falling in steady, mechanical breaths.

He looked peaceful. His thick, dark hair was neatly combed, and his features were relaxed.

Tubes were attached to him, monitors surrounded his bed, and the quiet hum of medical equipment filled the space.

Yasmin swept open the blue curtains to let in more sunlight.

“This is my little brother,” she said, turning back toward us with a spark of pride in her eyes. “He’s been stuck in this silly coma since last year. A car accident. It’s a long story. But he’s alive, and that’s what matters.”

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “He’s just taking his sweet time, aren’t you, buddy?”

I glanced at Whisper, who gave me a small smile, giving me the impression she’d met Jayden like this before.

The large windows let in soft, golden sunlight, bathing the space in a gentle glow. Outside, the branches of a lush tree drooped under the weight of dozens of bright yellow lemons.

Yasmin adjusted the sheet covering Jayden, smoothing the fabric like she’d done it a million times before.

“He’s stubborn,” she continued, teasing him. “He’ll wake up when he’s good and ready. Isn’t that right, lazybones?”

She gave his hand a squeeze, and her grin faltered before her smile returned.

In the corner stood a small forest of monitors, IV stands, and equipment I couldn’t begin to name.

But Yasmin had made the room more than a functional space.

Potted plants lined the windowsill, their leaves glossy and green.

The walls were covered in hundreds of photos: pictures of Yasmin and Jayden, of a couple I assumed were their parents, and plenty of Yasmin with Cobra.

In every single photo, they were smiling and laughing, full of life.

I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. “I’m so sorry. It must be so hard to see him like this.”

Yasmin waved me off with a bright smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s better than being dead, right, buddy?” She tapped Jayden’s hand lightly before straightening up. “He’s just got some healing to do. That’s all. Jayden always had to do things his way.”

It was impossible not to be floored by her optimism. The way she spoke to him, so bubbly and casual, like he could hear every word.

Maybe he could.

“Anyway,” Yasmin said, giving his hand one last pat. “I’ll come back in a sec and give you your massage. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

She grinned, then turned to us. “Come on, I’ll show you the restrooms. Back in five, buddy.”

We stepped out into the hallway, and she closed the door again.

She led the way as she spoke over her shoulder.

“We’ve got a whole team of medical experts and nurses who come by each week, and Cole has set up enough monitors and alarms that if Jayden does come out of his coma—no, when he comes out of his coma—this old schoolhouse will light up like a Christmas tree.

” She chuckled. “I do his daily muscle therapy myself. And I talk his ear off with all my bad jokes. By the time he wakes up, he’ll probably be sick of hearing my voice. ”

“You’re amazing, Yasmin,” I said, meaning every word.

She shook her head. “Nah, nothing amazing about it. He’s my brother. You’d do the same for someone you love.”

I hesitated. I wasn’t so sure about that. Not everyone could manage what Yasmin was handling. I knew, without a doubt, that my sister wouldn’t. If it were me lying in that bed, she would probably pull the plug.

We reached an open doorway with a sign that read Boys’ Restroom , and Yasmin tapped the sign as she walked in.

“We’ve got both boys’ and girls’ restrooms, but the boys’ has the best shower.” She pointed to a stall at the back. “That one. Help yourself to the shampoo and conditioner.”

“This place is cool,” I said, glancing around.

“Cole bought the schoolhouse a couple of years ago,” Yasmin said, opening a locker and pulling out a towel.

“The primary school was in operation for over a hundred years but had been abandoned for nearly twenty years. We’re slowly fixing it up, but .

. .” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Assholes with guns and C4 keep interrupting. So rude.”

I laughed as she handed me the towel.

“Take all the time you need,” she said. “I’ll grab you some fresh clothes and that coffee.”

“Thanks.”

Yasmin left, and Whisper strode over to me, arms open. “Give me a hug, girlfriend.”

I let her pull me into a tight embrace, and her warmth grounded me.

She pulled back, her expression soft but serious. “I still want to hear all about you and that stud getting down and dirty.”

“It’s a long story.” I chuckled, fumbling to remove the bandage around my hand .

“Let me do that.” Whisper’s gaze softened even more, and her touch turned gentle as she unwrapped the dressing. “You scared the hell out of me when your plane fell off the radar. Especially after what happened to your parents.”

“Tell me about it.” My chest constricted as Ladybeetle's plummet flashed through my mind. “Glad I had a different ending to Mom and Dad, though.”

“Me too. You got lucky.” She freed the last of the bandage and sucked in a breath. "Ouch."

My injured finger had darkened to the color of a storm cloud and my knuckle had swollen to twice its normal size.

“Bloody hell.” Whisper cradled my hand, turning my palm up. “I bet that hurt.”