“They…did,” I whisper, the words almost clear. “Nev-rr stop look-king.”
Parker sniffles, blinking fast, her chest hitching like she’s trying to swallow everything down. “I know. I know they would’ve searched forever if they had to. But in there—God, Grace—it felt endless. Like time didn’t move. Like I was already gone, and the world just didn’t know it yet.”
I squeeze her fingers harder, wishing I could pour strength into her veins. “You…here,” I murmur, slow and broken, but true. I wrap my arms around her again, pulling her close. “Safe.”
“Safe,” she echoes, as if the word itself is a miracle.
When the men come back in, eyes scanning like they expect an ambush even here, Parker’s composed again. Fragile, but steady.
“You will stay here tonight,” Reyes says firmly. “IV fluids, monitoring. Tomorrow you fly.”
I look to AJ, hoping he’ll understand how very much I want to go home. But he’s nodding. “Whatever’s best for them,” he says as he moves to sit next to me and takes my hand. “You’d still be in the hospital at home if…that bastard hadn’t… It’s one night, darlin’. And I’ll stay with you the whole time.”
Nate drops into the chair next to Parker’s bed, stretching out his legs like he owns the place. “Guess that makes me your bodyguard-slash-entertainment for the evening. Don’t worry, I do birthday parties too.”
Parker’s lips twitch, a ghost of a smirk breaking through the exhaustion. “Pretty sure you’d eat the cake before the party even started.”
Nate presses a hand to his chest. “Words can wound, Lieutenant Loose Cannon. But you’re not wrong.”
She stares down her nose at him, brows lifted slightly, but her tone is soft, almost needy. “You’re really workin’ hard to keep your own nickname, Lieutenant Last Nerve.”
“No one’s ever accused me of being lazy,” he says, puffing out his chest. But in the next breath, he rests his hand on Parker’s forearm, lowers his voice, and grits out, “I’m staying. No arguments.”
“He doesn’t get near the cake. Or any of the food. Not until everyone else has eaten,” Connor says from the corner, arms crossed, a pistol strapped to his hip. “There wouldn’t be anythin’ left.”
Nate glares at him. “Bleeding out from verbal shrapnel here, and not one of you bastards is calling for a medic? Doc? You’re responsible for triage, right?”
Reyes looks at us like he can’t quite tell if we’re joking or concussed. “I…will check on the food. You all need to eat. Then rest.”
After the doctor leaves, Jasper returns to his post, standing sentry only inches from the door, and smirks at Nate. “You’ll live. Ain’t a bullet that can take you down, much less a truth bomb.”
AJ pulls me close, shifting so we’re both propped up against the pillows. We reek of smoke. Of burnt oleanders. Of exhaustion and fear. But we’re together. Our whole family is together.
Halfway through a midnight snack of tamales and fresh fruit, Parker turns her gaze to me. “That man—Prophet’s dad? How did he even know I was in the box?”
My throat tightens, and I squeeze my eyes shut. It takes all my focus to force the words free. “Abe. Told…himm.”
“Abe?” AJ asks. “That’s his name?”
I manage the smallest nod, then rest my head on my husband’s shoulder. I hope Abe is safe. That the FBI will help him—help everyone Prophet trapped there.
Parker coughs weakly. Nate picks up a cup of water and angles the straw toward her, but she waves him off. “I don’t know when Abe shoved that piece of metal through the wall. I was so out of it, it could have been there for hours. But I saw a tiny crack in the fabric. And a single rough board—must’ve been how he got it to me—and I started pryin’ at them when it was still daylight. Took me until the ceremony started to open a hole big enough to crawl through.”
“Smart.” Pride roughens Nate’s voice. “Stubborn as hell, but smart.”
Connor and Jasper make a plan to stand guard in the hall, trading shifts every two hours, leaving just the four of us alone in this room.
Parker nods off immediately, with Nate watching over her. AJ pulls the covers up over us, wrapping his arms around me so I can lay my head on his chest.
“I love you,” he whispers against my hair.
“Love. You.” The words come easier now. Not perfect, not whole, but mine. “So much.”
His heartbeat is steady under my cheek, a rhythm I thought I’d lost forever. My eyelids grow heavy, the warmth of him wrapping me in something that feels like peace. Real peace.
For the first time in my broken memory, I let go, knowing when I wake up, I’ll still be…me. Still be held. Still be…safe.
Epilogue
