“Not anymore. I walked away, got in the car, and drove straight to the airport. Caught the next flight to Seattle.” I bend my arm under my head and stare up at the ceiling. “Figured if my own family couldn’t stand to look at me, a classroom full of kids wouldn’t want to either.”
A knock at the door makes Wren jump.
“Food,” Inara calls. “Can I come in?”
I want to say no—I’m only wearing a pair of basketball shorts, and Inara’s never seen the worst of my scars. But as I glance around, I realize all my clean clothes are in the living room. And Wren needs to eat. “Yeah.”
My wounded little bird curls against me when the door opens, regarding Inara with a wary, nervous gaze. But the scent of french fries and greasy burgers makes her stomach growl.
“Wren?” Kneeling next to us, Inara holds out her hand. I don’t expect Wren to move…not as weak and scared as she’s been, but she pushes herself up to her knees with some effort and hugs Inara.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
Inara gently pats Wren’s back and whispers something in her ear before the two women part. “You have Big Macs, Chicken McNuggets, fries, Cokes, and three kids meals in there.”
“Holy shit. You do realize Wren’s all of a hundred pounds soaking wet, don’t you?” I peer into the bag and suddenly realize how hungry I am.
“I do. And you haven’t eaten since she was taken either, asshole.” With a jab to my shoulder and a quick glance at my scarred chest, Inara pushes to her feet. “Besides, what better way to throw any potential tail off my scent than to order three kids meals.”
“She has a point,” Wren says as she pulls out a hamburger and peels off the wrapper.
Inara pauses at the threshold and turns back to us. “We’re monitoring the cameras. So far, there’s no indication they know where we are. You’re safe, Wren. And we’ll make sure you stay that way. West is working on a new plan to get Elena right now, and as soon as you’re okay to travel, we’ll get her and get the fuck out of Russia.”
After Inara closes the door, Wren turns to me, a bit of ketchup smearing the corner of her mouth. “West is here? He’s…the other member of your team, right?”
“The damn fool postponed his own fucking wedding.” I tear into a Big Mac, pausing only to swipe the little red smear from Wren’s cheek. Not eating for twenty-four hours was stupid. If my reaction time had been any slower, I could have gotten her killed. “I didn’t ask him to come.”
One hamburger gone and another half-eaten, Wren stops and reaches for my hand. All I see every time I look at her is the bruises. The pain behind her eyes. But she links our fingers and holds on tight. “They’re your family, Ry. They’ve alwaysbeenyour family. You just didn’t see it.”
“They work for me,” I say after a swig of Coke.
“Bull-pucky.” She tries a smile, and though it’s lopsided and doesn’t light up her eyes like it did before she was taken, I think something’s settled inside her. “They care about you. And you care about them. Why is that so hard for you to admit?”
Because I hurt everyone I care about.
“Ry?” Wren sets the half-eaten carton of fries back in the bag and scoots closer to me, a grimace of pain twisting her lips until she blows out a breath. “I…I care about you.”
I should tell her. Everything. Say those three words I’ve never said to anyone. But…if I do, I’ll fail her. Like I failed Dax. And West. And Inara. Like I failed my brother. And most of all, like I failed myself.
The light in her eyes fades, and she picks up her soda and takes a long drink. “I’m going to sleep a while now. You won’t leave?”
“No, baby. I won’t leave.” As she slides under the sleeping bag, I want to run as far and as fast as I can. But a promise is a promise, and despite my fear, I love this woman. And I’ll try as hard as I can to never let her down.
* * *
Wren
Ryker groans quietly and drapes his arm around me. I wish I could sleep, but I’m about to crawl out of my skin. Every time I close my eyes, I hear Koyla threatening me. Or feel the needle piercing my vein. I can’t settle.
After what I now know was more than twenty-four hours chained to a sink in a tiny bathroom, I feel like the walls are closing in on me. But…at the same time, everything’s just…too much. Every sensation is magnified a thousand times. I can’t get comfortable. Falling off the balcony bruised my tailbone, jammed my shoulder, and twisted my knee. I don’t even know if I can walk. Ryker carried me to this little oasis he created. Three sleeping bags, candles all around the room—thankfully unlit as I don’t know if I’d be able to handle them right now—a bottle of water and food within reach, and him.
Every time I came back to my senses after the drugs, I half-expected him to be there. Rescuing me. Protecting me. I know why he couldn’t. Too many guns. Too many men. But the disappointment…it’s one of the only feelings I can remember besides fear. And…the relief, every time Kolya depressed that plunger. A moment of utter and complete terror, and then…nothing.
I wish I could feel nothing again.
Unable to lie still another second, I try to slide out from under Ryker’s arm, and beads click together. Oh my God. He found my bracelet. The lump in my throat threatens to choke me as I ease the band off his wrist and onto mine, praying he won’t wake up. He’ll want to talk, and I…just can’t.
Across the room, a single window is covered with a thick blanket. Ryker’s doing. Privacy. Making sure no one knows this house is occupied—or how many people are here. I need to see out. Need to see something besides four walls crushing me.
