Ghost approached slowly, coming to stand a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest.His eyes tracked from my bandaged arm to my face, assessing.
"You proved yourself tonight," he said finally, the words dragged out like they pained him to speak."Saw how you put those girls first."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.Coming from Ghost, this qualified as effusive praise.
A heavy silence fell between us, filled with unspoken words and lingering suspicion.Ghost might have seen enough to reassess me, but years of protective instinct didn't disappear in a single night.
"Wren's been asking about you," he said finally, the words clearly difficult for him."Waiting to hear if you made it back in one piece."
My heart jumped at her name."I need to see her."
"Yeah," Ghost agreed, though his jaw tightened."You can...talkto her."He emphasized the word like a warning, a reminder of boundaries still firmly in place.
"Thank you," I said, meaning it.
Ghost merely grunted and turned to leave.At the door, he paused without looking back."Be careful with that arm.You get gangrene, it'll upset Wren."
The door closed behind him, and I had to stifle a chuckle.For one, Ghost would have my head if he heard.Second, everything hurt too Goddamned much.Again, one of those delayed reactions.I must have taken a few more hits than I’d realized at the time.Ghost hadn’t offered me forgiveness, exactly, but a crack in his wall of disliking-me-on-principle was definitely a start.A grudging acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, I might be able to make myself worthy of his daughter after all.
Movement in the hallway caught my eye through the partially open door.Wren stood there, her purple hair unmistakable even in the dim light.She must have overheard the exchange with Ghost, her lips curving into a cautious smile as our eyes met.
That smile hit me like a shot of pure adrenaline, washing away pain and exhaustion in an instant.Ghost's tentative approval meant something, but Wren's smile meant everything.I struggled to my feet, determined to cross the distance between us despite the room's sudden tendency to tilt.
Ghost might have granted me permission to talk to her, but the way she looked at me now promised much more than conversation.And for the first time since this whole mess began, I allowed myself to believe we might actually have a future.Just surviving the night no longer felt like the end game.Building something real from the ashes of deception and violence that brought us together looked better and better all the time.And maybe even a real possibility.
The light in her eyes told me she believed it too.
Chapter Seventeen
Wren
IwrappedmyarmaroundRocky's waist.He wobbled slightly as we climbed the metal stairs to my apartment but I wisely didn’t say anything.His face had gone the color of dirty chalk, making the smudges of blood stand out like war paint.My heart hammered against my ribs with each step we took, like it couldn't decide between racing with relief that he came back alive or stopping altogether at how close he'd come to not making it back at all.
"I can make it," he insisted, even as his body leaned heavier into mine.“Just give me a second.”
"Shut up," I muttered, tightening my grip."You've lost blood, and I'm not picking your ass up when you face-plant on these stairs."
He made a sound that might have been a laugh if it hadn't caught on a wince.The stairs seemed to stretch forever, each metal step ringing under our boots like an announcement: still alive, still breathing, still here.
“Are you even all right?”Though I sounded exasperated, I used irritation to cover my alarm.“Did you get shot anywhere else?”
“No.Just adrenaline drop.”He stumbled and lunged forward, somehow I managed to keep his fucking big ass, muscled up self from actually doing the face-planting I’d mentioned earlier.When I did, I bumped his arm and he groaned.Loudly.“And in a bit of pain.Maybe some blood loss.”
I'd spent the entire night pacing my apartment, imagining every possible horrible outcome while the men rescued those girls.Ghost had refused to let me come to the clinic when they'd first returned, telling me I needed to let Sawbones do his job.Like hell.The moment I'd heard Rocky was back and hurt, I'd bolted for the clinic, only to find him trying to stand up with that stubborn look on his face, the one that said he'd crawl across broken glass before admitting he’d been hurt.
I fumbled with my keys at the door, one arm still supporting Rocky.My fingers felt clumsy, my nerves shot after hours of waiting, of not knowing if he'd come back in one piece.When the lock finally clicked, I shouldered the door open and guided him inside.
"Sit," I ordered, kicking the door shut behind us and turning the deadbolt with a decisive click.
Rocky eased onto my couch with another suppressed grimace.Though Bones dressed his wound, it had bled through a small amount.Dried blood crusted along his forearm and streaked his chest where it had dripped down from his wound.
"It's not as bad as it looks," he said, catching me staring at the wound."Just a graze."
"Yeah, and I'm the fucking queen of England."I moved to the kitchen, filling a bowl with warm water and grabbing a clean cloth before returning to kneel in front of him."Let me see it."
He started to protest, but I silenced him with a look I'd learned from Ghost, the one that said arguing would only make things worse.
Rocky exhaled slowly, then nodded."Fine.But I told you, it's just a—"
