Page 13

Troy

E lena’s pained cries tore through the wreckage of our makeshift shelter, freezing me where I knelt beside her. I had never heard her sound like this—raw, desperate, and in agony.

I’d promised we’d look at her injury, and I was doing that, really fucking hoping it wasn’t bad.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to focus, to push past the way my gut twisted at the sight of her curled up in the tattered blanket, clutching her leg like it was the only thing grounding her. Her breaths came in harsh, shallow gasps, her face pale, her lips trembling as she fought to keep it together.

She was losing that battle, and I didn’t fucking like seeing her like this.

I followed her hand, my gaze dropping to her ankle. The moment I saw it, I sucked in a sharp breath.

Jesus.

Her ankle was swollen—twice its normal size, maybe even more. The skin was already darkening, and bruises bloomed along the bone in a sickening pattern.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath.

Adrian crouched beside me, his expression grim as he took in the sight of her injury. He didn't say anything, but he didn’t need to. The tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched—that told me everything. He knew this wasn’t just some minor twist.

This wasn't good.

“Elena,” I started, but my voice came out rough. I forced myself to ease up, to push gentleness into my tone. She was already in enough pain—she didn’t need me sounding like I was delivering a death sentence. “I-I think it’s a nasty sprain. Maybe a fracture. But I don’t think it’s broken. Maybe… Fuck.”

She let out a choked, bitter laugh that made my stomach sink. “Oh, you don’t think?” she rasped, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before reopening them. There was something sharp in them, something I hadn’t seen before. Anger. At me. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

I stared at her, startled by the bite in her voice. Elena never snapped. She never let her emotions spill over, never let her hurt show. And now she was cracking apart right in front of me.

Adrian shifted beside me and let out a low breath. “I’ll get snow to put on it to help with swelling,” he said. “It’s not like there’s a fucking shortage of it outside.” He stood without another word and grabbed a shirt from his bag before moving toward the plane’s broken exit and disappearing from view.

That left me alone with her.

Elena let out another sharp breath and turned her face away as if she couldn’t stand to look at me.

I frowned.

“Hey,” I said softly, touching her arm. She flinched.

That fucking hurt.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering above her skin before I pulled back. The rejection stung, but I didn’t blame her for it, not after everything.

Still, I couldn’t let her sit here thinking she was alone.

“Your ankle will heal,” I told her, trying to sound as sure as I could, even though I had no goddamn idea if that was true. “You’re gonna be fine.”

She scoffed and wiped furiously at her damp cheeks, her fingers shaking. “Why do you even care? ”

The words hit harder than they should have.

I stared at her, momentarily at a loss for what to say.

Did she really think that? That I didn’t care?

Of course, she did.

I’d spent years making sure she felt like an outsider. I had ignored her, pushed her away, and treated her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience in my life. And now, when everything was falling apart, I expected her to believe me when I said I cared.

Yeah. That was on me.

I let out a slow breath and shook my head. “Of course I care,” I said quietly.

Elena didn’t respond. She didn’t look at me, didn’t acknowledge the words. She turned her face to the side and let the silence stretch between us.

And fuck, that hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I had spent so long pretending she didn’t exist, and now, when I finally saw her—really saw her—she was shutting me out the way I had shut her out for years.

I hated myself for it. I hated that I had let it get to this point. But I wasn’t going to let it stay that way.

I was going to be better.

I didn’t know how much time we had left out here. I didn’t know if we would make it out alive. But if we did, I swore I would fix this.

I would fix everything.

Before I could say anything else, Adrian returned, carrying a bundled-up shirt filled with snow.

He moved past me and crouched beside Elena, carefully pressing the makeshift ice pack to her ankle. She let out a small gasp at the cold and pain, but she didn’t pull away.

For a long moment, none of us spoke.

We just sat there, the quiet stretching between us, thick with unspoken things.

Then, finally, Adrian broke the silence.

“We need to figure out our next move,” he said, calm but firm. “We can’t just sit here and hope someone finds us. ”

I nodded, dragging a hand through my hair. “We need to build a big fire outside. One that can be seen from the air.”

“Yeah.” Adrian shifted, adjusting the snow on Elena’s ankle. “We also need to ration food. We can't afford to waste anything if we’re out here for a few more days.”

A few more days.

I swallowed hard, pushing back the gnawing dread in my stomach. We didn’t know how long it would take for rescue teams to find us. It could be days. It could be weeks.

And Elena…

I glanced down at her ankle again. The swelling hadn’t gone down. If anything, it looked worse. If we didn’t get her help soon, there was no telling what kind of damage it would cause. That could ruin her ballet career before it started.

I clenched my jaw and looked back at Adrian. “We should gather as much wood as we can. Anything that will burn.”

He nodded. “Agreed.”

The plan was forming, but all I could think about was Elena.

Her ankle.

Her pain.

She looked fragile sitting there, her shoulders slumped, her eyes filled with something too close to defeat.

No. I wouldn’t let her give up. I wouldn’t let her think for a second that this was the end.

I reached out, my fingers brushing lightly against her arm, and this time, she didn’t flinch.

“We’ll be just outside,” I told her. “Trying to gather everything we need.”

She blinked up at me, her expression unreadable, before nodding tiredly. “OK.”

I hesitated, watching her carefully, but she didn’t say anything else.

She just looked sad.

And I hated that more than anything.

“Try to rest,” I said, my voice softer now.

Elena gave me a slight, barely-there nod before closing her eyes.

I lingered for a moment, staring at her, memorizing the lines of her face, the way exhaustion clung to her features. Then, finally, I stood and followed Adrian outside.

When the cold hit me, I took a slow breath and looked at him.

“She’s in worse shape than she’s letting on,” I muttered.

Adrian’s expression darkened. “I know.”

I exhaled sharply, clenching my fists. “We need to get her out of here.”

Adrian met my gaze, and we agreed for the first time in years.

“We will.”

I swallowed hard and looked back toward the wreckage where Elena lay, curled up in pain.

I wished I could take it away.

And I could.

If I could get us rescued.