Miguel and I stare at one another for a long moment. Two men who’ve lost, fought, and won in the end. “I’ll always be a Ranger, Sandoval.”
“And I will always be cartel. But we understand each other, yes?”
“More than that, I think.” I offer him my hand. His grip is strong—as is mine—but not crushing. “You gave me my wife back. Twice. That’s a debt I can never repay.”
“Then you are lucky I forgot my ledger at home,” Miguel says with a small smile. “Now go, before one of my men insists I start a new one.”
Chapter Eighty-Four
Grace
I don’t remember much from the ride to the clinic. AJ’s arms around me. The steady beat of his heart under my ear. The smells of smoke and sweat. Parker trembling beside me with Nate’s arm around her shoulders.
But now, there’s pain as AJ helps me out of the SUV, through the darkness, and into an older clinic that smells like disinfectant.
Reyes tries to get Parker and me into separate rooms, but she grabs my hand and holds on tight. “No. I want to stay with Grace. Please?”
He nods, and relief loosens some of the tightness in my chest. Nate looks stricken as she staggers into the room without him. AJ refuses to leave my side, and I’m grateful for his strength.
Parker lets Reyes clean and bandage her hands, give her oxygen, and set up an IV, though her jaw never unclenches. Her gaze is haunted, a look I feel deep in my soul.
When it’s my turn, I sit quietly, my hand held tightly in AJ’s. Reyes swabs the angry line of stitches on my temple, then adds two more to replace the one that popped when Prophet forced the crown of oleanders onto my head.
I stay still, only a single whimper when the needle slides into my skin.
After Reyes has applied a fresh bandage, started an IV, and given me a couple of pills that he says will help with any lingering effects from the oleander, he leaves, promising to return to check on us soon.
I tap AJ’s arm and mime writing. I’m so tired of trying to make my words come, but there are things I need to say. To him. But especially to Parker.
It takes him a beat, but then he rummages in the little nightstand and comes up with a pad of paper and a pen.
“Go? Need time with Parker.”
His shoulders stiffen, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue. But then he nods. “We’ll be right outside.”
The door shuts softly, and I turn to Parker. Oh, God. She sits on the edge of her bed, staring down at her hands. Tears stain her cheeks, but she doesn’t make a sound.
I don’t trust myself to get up, but I pat the bed to get her attention. As if she’s just remembered I’m in the room, her haunted gaze snaps up, she swipes at her cheeks, and grabs her IV pole.
It’s awkward at first, both of us trying to figure out how to hold one another without ripping out our IVs. But eventually, she has her arms around me, and we both sob until we have nothing left.
“Grace,” she says, and a shuddering, wheezing breath escapes her. “The sound…” Her whole body is shaking now. “I can still hear it… I screamed. So loud, but no one came. I couldn’t even think…except that I really would lose myself. That he was right. I would beg…by the end.”
I fumble for the pad, my tears blurring the shaky words I manage to scribble.
“You survived. You’re here.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her forehead against my shoulder. “It was only a day…but…”
I write slower this time, taking the care Parker deserves. “I know. First time. Right after he took me. Four days. Then, year later. Tried to escape. He caught me. Eight days.”
Her breath hitches, raw and wheezing. “Oh, God, Grace. I’m…sorry. I don’t… How?”
Parker clutches my hand like I’m the only tether she has to reality. I remember that feeling. Even with so many other holes in the past three years—in my entire life—I remember the box. And how it broke me.
I try again. “AJ. Knew he was out there. Knew I had to get back to him.”
Parker chokes on a sob, swiping her free hand over her cheeks. “I didn’t know how they’d find us. If they’d ever find us.” Her voice quivers, thin and raw, like she just confessed something shameful.
