"Fine," he answers with a huff.
I'd been tending to his thigh wound for a few days before Lucien adamantly announced he was tired of having me so close to his junk. After laughing for several minutes, I taught him how to dress the damn thing himself. And I'm sure he's keeping it clean. I mean, fuck, thisisLucien we're talking about.
But I continue to dress his shoulder since he physically can't. I know he doesn't like to be touched, but his phobias have calmed down significantly as of lately. I think his brain is so focused on finding Adeline that he doesn't really concentrate on all the other shit that used to bombard him on a daily basis.
"Looks good," I tell him when I finish up. "No sign of infection. It's healing really well."
"Good," he mutters.
I carry everything back to the bathroom, put it all away, discard of the used supplies and wash my hands before walking out. "The watch is still a dead end?" I ask him. Lucien had gifted Adeline a watch with a GPS tracker inside. The only thing is — the watch runs on body heat. Doesn't need a battery. Lucien's brilliant creation, of course.
But somewhere along the line, Adeline either took the watch off or it was taken from her. And so the GPS stopped tracking her once she got back to New York City. We could only track her that far.
So, she could still be in New York or halfway across the world right now, and we would have absolutely no idea.
"The watch hasn't been activated since it first went offline," he says solemnly. "I should have installed an emergency battery. I can't believe I was so stupid," he growls, clearly blaming himself.
I hang my head. Even though I always try to keep positive for his sake, it's so freaking hard. I clap a hand on his good shoulder. "Don't worry. Something will turn up," I tell him.
"I hope so, Jax, because I'm going crazy thinking about all the things that could be happening to her," he confesses in a whisper.
Me too, I think to myself, but don't dare say the words out loud.
CHAPTER 30
KATYA
I CONTINUE MY training sessions with Wraith. Between his brutal workouts and Maria's delicious meals, I've actually gained some weight and muscle mass.
It feels good to eat regular meals three times a day and not be afraid of waking up every morning, worrying about what's going to happen next and who's going to hurt me.
It's definitely a change for the better, and I owe it all to Jax.
Wraith points his finger and thumb at me like he's holding a weapon. "First point of contact?" he asks.
"Blow to the wrist to get the gun pointed away from me," I tell him before swinging my forearm up and knocking away his hand and, therefore, the fake gun.
"And then?"
"Anywhere vulnerable," I respond, going through the motions of kneeing him in the balls and gouging his eyes, but never making contact.
We've been through this a hundred times or more, but he insists this is the most important training exercise. I think deep down he's worried the island could be under siege again. And I also know he feels guilty about what happened during the first attack. He wants me to be able to hold my own. He wants me to be safe and stay alive without actually saying the words out loud.
Wraith doesn't use his words very often, and that's the understatement of the century. He's the most difficult and stubborn nut to crack, but the reward of finally breaking through the tough, hard shell is rewarding.
The more I get to know Wraith, the more I like him. He tells me little tidbits about his checkered past, but I still don't know his real name or why he left the Russian mafia to begin with. He's a mystery wrapped up tightly in an enigma — that's for sure.
"Very good, Katya," Wraith praises me, and I beam up at him.
I like to think that maybe one day Wraith and I could become very good friends. We're both closed off from the world around us but willing to open up for the right person. I could be his person.
And after a very brief break from serious, he's right back to business. "Lie down on the mat. Let's try that move out again we were working on yesterday."
And just as we start wrestling on the mat with me trying to break out of Wraith's grip, that's when Jax enters the gym.
His eyes find us immediately, and I can practically hear the cogs in his brain working and know exactly what he's thinking.
I keep struggling against Wraith, his giant body pressing me down and instructing me to break his hold. Except, I start to really fight against him, grunting and screaming.
