Page 111 of Storm and Tempest

“The doctor said the surgery went well.”

He didn’t open his eyes.

“They replaced your shoulder with some kind of cutting-edge technology with their proprietary material that’s supposed to mimic bone. And it interacts with your body and your bloodstream the way real bone would. It’s kind of amazing what they can do.”

Jax looked at her. “Yeah?”

“Yes, because it means that my grandchild might be born healthy.” She sounded tentative, unsure how he would react to the cold reality of the situation.

“She will be born into this nightmare. Raised not knowing any other way. A victim, like the rest of us.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I take what I can get. That’s all I’ve ever been able to do.” She reached for the hospital blanket over him but pulled her hand back. “You’ll be together again, at least.”

“Living here? For the rest of our lives?” He refused to believe it was over. No way was this fight finished. He would never quit and accept defeat.

Don’t take me to that edge, Lord.

And yet, that was exactly what might happen. That same surrender might look a whole lot like submitting toDominatuson the outside, while in his heart it was about yielding his life to what God wanted from him. No questions, just surrender. Just faith that God had it all in His hands, and He’d work everything for good for those that love Him.

No matter what.

Chapter Thirty

Voices drifted through the door, solid white with a tiny window crisscrossed with metal lines. “…total carnage. No one left alive, we didn’t even find remains floating on the surface. The whole thing was burning.”

“Burned alive is a nasty way to go.”

“Better than drowning.”

Two men walked by the door and continued down the hall.

“Out here?” one said. “You’d never feel it you go cold so fast. Get numb. Drift off and start to sink. Better than flames, and your skin melting.”

Jax stared at the window. As soon as the two men were out of sight, he tried the door handle again. He had no idea how long he’d even been in this room—whether hours or days—since the surgery. His limbs were dragging a little, as if the signals from his brain needed a second longer than normal before they activated.

He had white scrub pants on, and canvas shoes he’d found under the bed that were a little too small. No socks. His own underwear still, thank you very much. A white tank top, muscle shirt so that the bandage on his shoulder was more visible. Or it had been, until he’d taken it off so he could see the woundunderneath. With no mirror in here, it had been hard to look at the back of his shoulder and the extent of how they’d carved him up.

Still tender. The shoulder joint felt better than it had in a long time, if he was honest. But it felt more like having some foreign thing inside him and he wanted it out.

Captured.

Experimented on.

Shut in a cell with no way out.

He was living the life Kenna had lived for the past few months—and even longer. Ever since Colorado she’d been at their mercy, whether either of them had wanted to realize it or not.

Thank You.

He knew now what it felt like for her, being here. What it was like to live through everything they’d done to her.I get it.What she was currently going through, and what she had been forced to endure. He understood what it felt like to have no power.

If she’d told him what it felt like, he’d have said he understood. But he never would have. Not really. Nowwhenhe got her back, he’d be able to empathize.

Because he’d lived it as well—even if it was only for a short time.

Jax tried the door handle again. Still locked.

Thank You for giving me this understanding.