“Bomb,” I said. “Clubhouse. I went to check for Maddie. I was stupid. Got caught.”
Doc’s eyes went flat. “You weren’t stupid. You were brave.” Sounded like a compliment and not just a fact. “Most people wouldn’t have made it out. Or wanted to.”
I looked down at my hands. They were clean, but the skin was shredded in places, pink and shiny with healing. “I saw my mom,” I said. “I was pretty sure I was dead.”
Wrecker shifted beside me. “You weren’t dead.”
“I think maybe I was. Just for a minute.”
Doc pressed two fingers to my neck, counting the pulse. “Did she say anything interesting?” he asked, and I almost laughed at how clinical he made it sound.
I nodded, then winced. “She told me to listen.”
Doc’s lips quirked. “Good advice. Maybe you should try it more often.”
Wrecker glared at him, but Doc ignored it.
“How long was I out?” I asked.
“Twenty-four hours. Not the worst I’ve seen, but I’ll want to keep you here for at least another day. Two if you’re smart.”
I nodded. “I’ll be smart.”
Doc snorted. “That’ll be the day.” He finished his checks, made a note on the clipboard, and turned to Wrecker. “No strenuous activity for at least a week. And keep her away from power tools.” He left without waiting for a response.
Wrecker scooted his chair closer. He ran his thumb along my jaw, careful not to touch the bruised side. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said, voice low.
“Sorry,” I said, and meant it.
He didn’t say anything for a while. Just looked at me, like he was cataloguing every freckle, every cut, every inch of me.
“I heard you,” I said. “In the rubble. I heard you calling for me. That’s why I came back when I died.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to make everything into a joke, Wren. Sometimes people just get lucky.”
“I’m serious. I wanted to stay. Because of you.”
He looked away, jaw working. “You’re not allowed to die before me,” he said finally. “That’s the deal.”
I tried to smile. “You planning on dying soon?”
His mouth twitched. “Not if I can help it.” He reached out and took my hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
I squeezed his fingers, even though it hurt. “I don’t want to.”
He bent down, brushed his lips across my forehead. “Rest. I’ll be here.”
He stayed with me throughout the entire night. When I woke up, he was reading a battered paperback, his feet propped on the windowsill. When I asked for water, he was already halfway outof the chair. When I needed to puke, he held the basin and didn’t even flinch when some of it got on his arm.
The second day, I heard voices in the hallway. Bronc, low and furious, and Juliet, sharp as a knife. I caught the words “Greenbriar” and “retaliation.” I caught my own name twice.
I tried to get out of bed, but the pain was too much. When Wrecker came back, I said, “You need to let me help. I can hack the cameras, I can—”
He cut me off. “No. Not this time. You almost died, Parker. You’re sitting this one out.”
“You can’t just—”
“I can,” he said, voice gone dark. “And I am. You’re staying here, where you’re safe. Bronc can handle the rest.”
