Page 43

“It’s okay.” I bit back a smile as Jaxson's worried eyes, when he'd first seen my dislocated finger, flickered through my memory. “Like you said, I got lucky. This was my only souvenir from the plane crash.”

“You sure did.” Whisper flashed a magnificent grin. “Speaking of lucky. Cody will be here after he’s done at Xander’s farm. He’ll be so glad to see you.”

“Oh, that’s right. How’s he liking the new job?”

“Loves it,” she said, her smile stretching wider.

“Xander and Aria have been amazing. Xander’s given Cody free rein with the sustainable crops, so he’s in his element.

Cody handles all the plants while Xander looks after the animals and bees.

It’s a perfect setup. Nobody yells at him, the pay’s better than he’s ever had working for his stupid uncle.

Plants are his Zen. He comes home grinning every day like he’s won the bloody lottery. ”

Whisper paused, and her smile turned sassy. “And let me tell you, that sweet smile of his is absolutely gorgeous. Kinda like the one I saw Jaxson give you.”

“Stop it, you tease.” I swatted at her, but she danced out of reach, laughing.

“I’m serious! I saw it. I’m telling ya, he’s got the hots for you, sista.”

“Who’s got the hots for who?” Yasmin asked, stepping into the room with a stack of neatly folded clothes in her arms and a steaming coffee mug.

“Jaxson and Tory,” Whisper said, grinning like a Broncos Cheerleader. “Apparently, something magical happened in that swamp.”

Yasmin’s smile stretched wide, and her fascinating green eyes sparkled. “You know, for all the shit that happens between Risky Shores and Rosebud, there’s still plenty of miracles happening.”

“Well said, sista.” Whisper clapped her hands together. “Speaking of magic, I’m off to check out those boxes with the guys. Let’s hope we can conjure up some of the answers we’ve all been chasing.”

“I’ll be there in a sec,” I said.

"Take all the time you need, luvvy," Yasmin said, setting the clothes down on the bench with a gentle pat. "The undies are fresh from the wash, cross my heart."

I managed a weak laugh, grateful beyond words at the thought of clean clothes. At this point, I would have worn a potato sack if it meant getting out of the underwear I'd been stuck in for days.

“And if you want to rest, I’ve set up a bedroom for you.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to—” I started, but Yasmin cut me off with a raised hand.

“We’ve got seven bedrooms in this place. Trust me, we’re an open door for anyone who pops over, or has too much to drink and can’t drive home . . . which is usually the case. Anyway, it’s no trouble.”

“Thank you. I don’t think I can sleep, though. Not until we hear about Blade and Viper.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Yasmin’s shoulders slumped. “Fingers crossed that Jaxson and Onyx find them quickly.”

“They will,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as her. “I mean, they found me in that croc-infested swamp. That was a miracle.”

Yasmin placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Then that’s the miracle we’re channeling.”

She gave my shoulder a squeeze before turning to leave, her movements breezy, like she was gliding on roller skates.

Once the door clicked shut, I let out a long breath and undid the buttons of Whitney’s shirt. As I slipped it off, a sharp sting of pain shot through my shoulder, drawing a wince. I’d nearly forgotten about the bullet wound in all the chaos.

I unwound the bandage, wincing as the gauze pulled at my skin. Fresh blood pearled up where the dried patches tore free, making my stomach flip. Damn it.

Wadding up toilet paper, I pressed it against the wound, biting back a hiss of pain.

But through the sting, a softer memory surfaced: Jaxson's focused expression as he'd bandaged me, his hands steady and sure.

Even with Whitney's life hanging in the balance, he'd taken the time to treat my wound and make sure I was okay.

I liked that about him. Jaxson had this way of giving himself completely, his time, his focus, without ever making me feel like he was stretched too thin. It was like he could carry the weight of everything without letting anyone feel like a burden.

The thought twisted something deep inside me. Jaxson was so unlike Izzy, my stepsister. She never wanted to share anything . . . time, attention, love. Not with me. Not even with our parents.

I had no idea why Izzy kept creeping into my thoughts.

Maybe all my near-death experiences were making me feel like I should try to fix the relationship between us and reconnect somehow.

Or maybe I just wanted to make life easier for my parents.

Life was way too short to let her unfounded accusations keep tearing our family apart.

But Izzy was a fortress built on greed. She already had more money than she could ever need, yet somehow it was never enough.

Greed was the poison that had seeped into her mind and twisted every sane thought about me.

She didn’t see me anymore, she had some distorted version of who she thought I was.

I exhaled sharply, shaking off the thoughts as I confirmed that my bullet wound had stopped bleeding. It had, for now. But before the blood started oozing again, I grabbed my towel and trotted to the shower stall at the back.

Hot water poured over me, washing away the grime, the blood, and the tension that had been clinging to my muscles. I scrubbed my body from head to toe, working shampoo into my hair until it felt fresh again. Then I spent what felt like forever digging dried mud out from under my nails.

Yasmin wasn’t kidding. This shower was heaven.

By the time I stepped out, the bathroom was thick with steam, and my skin was flushed a warm pink. For the first time in days, I felt almost normal.

Except for the blood oozing down my arm again.

After dabbing my wound until the bleeding stopped, I rummaged through the lockers, searching for something to wrap around my arm. Finding nothing, I conceded that I needed help before I could redress.

Wrapping the towel tightly around me, I poked my head out into the hallway. “Hey, Whisper! You there?”

Charlie’s earsplitting bark echoed down the corridor, bouncing off the walls like a warning shot.

“Yo, you okay?” Whisper called as she entered the hallway from the gymnasium.

“Can you lend me a hand?” I asked, retreating into the bathroom. As she stepped inside, I added, “Close the door behind you.”

Whisper arched a brow. “That sounds ominous.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not. I just need help with this bullet wound.”

I peeled back the wadded toilet paper to show her the damage.

Whisper let out a low whistle. “Holy smokes, sista. That’s one hell of a battle scar in the making. Your grandkids are gonna love that story.” She turned on her heel. “Give me a sec.”

She disappeared out the door, and before I could even pull on the underwear Yasmin had given me, she returned with Yasmin in tow and the biggest first aid kit I’d ever seen with foldout compartments and supplies that would make even Maya jealous. Then again, Maya probably had a hand in stocking it.

“Wow,” I said, eyeing the kit. “I’m guessing you get your fair share of wounds to dress around here.”

Yasmin set the kit down and flipped it open, folding out its trays like she was cracking open a treasure chest. “You could say that. The Alpha Tactical Ops team could keep an entire hospital ward in business.”

“Speaking of hospitals,” I said, nodding toward her, “have we heard how Aria and Maya are?”

Yasmin sorted through the kit, pulling out bandages and creams. “Yes. They had cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. They were concussed, so the hospital kept them in for observation. But . . .” Shrugging, she flashed a lovely smile.

“You know those stubborn bitches. They both checked themselves out early so they could head down to the wharf.”

I huffed, shaking my head. “Sounds like them. Nothing keeps those two down.”

Whisper bumped her hip against mine. “Okay, now spill. Tell us how Jaxson rescued you.”

I giggled, knowing Whisper wouldn’t let it drop.

As Yasmin cleaned and dressed my wound, and I sipped the strong coffee, I told them about the plane crash, the armed bastards chasing me through the swamp, the gruesome crocodile attack that I still couldn’t believe I’d witnessed, and how Jaxson found me neck-deep in the water.

“Christ,” Whisper muttered, her wide eyes fixed on me. “I bet you were glad to see him.”

“Well,” I admitted with a small laugh, “at first, I thought he was one of them. He didn’t have a shirt on, and I didn’t recognize him right away.”

Whisper’s jaw dropped, and she clutched her chest dramatically. “Nice! I bet that hottie is buff .”

“Calm down,” I said, laughing and shaking my head at her. “But, yeah, you could say that.”

Whisper grinned. “Dang, girl. You really did get rescued by a hero.”

Yasmin chuckled as she finished taping the fresh bandage over my wound. “Well, if you’re going to crash a plane, at least you picked the right swamp to land in . . . it was a miracle that he was so close.”

“It’s all a fucking miracle,” Whisper said so loud her words echoed about the room.

As we laughed together, the tension that had gripped my shoulders for hours finally began to ease.

After they left, I dressed and headed down the hallway, my damp hair clinging to the back of my neck.

The gymnasium was illuminated by sunlight streaming through the high windows, but several massive floodlights had also been set up.

Rows of temporary tables stretched across the space, each one stacked with boxes salvaged from the orphanage fire.

Some had already been opened, and their contents were sorted into small, organized piles of papers and photos next to each box.