Page 36 of Too Far

My chest is so tight I can barely breathe, and no one will fucking answer me, but I affect calm and keep my voice soft. “Are you hurt?”

She rolls to her back and blows out a slow, clearly pained breath.

“Are you sick?” I press, peering at the orange prescription bottle in Kylian’s hand as he continues to glare at the instructions and warnings as if they’re personally offending him.

“Sort of,” she mutters.

I sigh, checking the time again. It’s 9:36 a.m. We’re running out of time. I’m running out of patience. “How can you besort ofsick?”

Instead of answering me with words, she reaches for my hand and pulls, guiding me closer to where she’s curled under the covers.

“Will you rub my low back?” she whispers. “Nicky’s hands are hurting, so I didn’t ask him.”

My knuckles instantly find her spine and knead into the muscle so intensely she lets out a whimper.

“Sorry, sorry,” I mutter, using my fingertips instead. “Better?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmurs, eyes fluttering closed in what I hope is contentment.

Pride surges through me, but it’s quickly replaced by dread when I catch sight of the clock on Josephine’s bedside table.

9:38 a.m.

“We should have left eight minutes ago.” I tip my chin toward Kylian but maintain pace as I massage Josephine’s low back.

She arches her back and sighs softly when I hit a particularly tender spot. Damn if it doesn’t make me feel like I’m the king of the world when I get that kind of reaction from her.

“I know,” Kylian confirms. “Today we will be late.”

Josephine goes rigid and pushes up with one arm so she can turn to look at me. “I’m making you late?”

“Yes,” I reply as Kylian adamantly declares, “No.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was.” She stifles a yawn with the back of her hand.

Scrutinizing me through his glasses, his expression cool, Kylian continues. “Time is irrelevant in moments like this. You needed us. We want to be here for you, Jo. Once they confirmed the diagnosis—”

“Which is what, exactly?” I press through gritted teeth. It takes all I have to maintain my pace, smoothing one hand over Josephine’s low back in methodical strokes, as I glare at Kylian.

He scoffs. “I’m not committing a HIPPA violation right in front of the patient herself.”

Josephine barks out a laugh but is surprised by another yawn. She’s never this lethargic.

“Siren, if you’re sick or contagious—”

Her shoulders tremble as another laugh works its way out of her. “I promise you can’t catch what I have, Decker.” She reaches behind her back and snags my hand again, pulling me closer and guiding my limbs around her body until I’m basically spooning her.

“What is that supposed to mean? What do you have?”

Groaning, she rolls to her back and regards me.

Her hair is loose and wavy, the ends tickling my forearm. Her freckles have started to fade now that the weather is changing. I resist the urge to kiss the bridge of her nose, dismiss Kylian, and just hold her for the rest of the damn day.

But then she purses her lips and side-eyes me.

“You’re a mother hen, you know that, Crusade? Has anyone ever told you—”

“Josephine,” I contend, clenching my jaw so hard it aches. It’s not just that she’s withholding information or that she’s making us late. It’s that everyone but me, it seems, knows what’s going on. “If something is wrong with you—”