AJ: Grace is sleeping. I’m in the room with her. You can get out of here if you want. See if there’s a motel nearby. Need to talk to the doc before I know when it’ll be safe for her to travel.
Jasper: Do I need to come back there and pull your head out of your ass? No one goes home until Grace does.
I don’t have the words to tell him what it means to have him here. I type and erase half a dozen messages before I give up and set the phone back on the table.
“Señor Stone?” Lourdes hovers in the doorway, a cup of coffee in her hands. Behind her, an orderly balances a slim, black leather recliner on a dolly. “You are tired. That is not good for Grace. Coffee or sleep.”
Her stern stare warns me not to argue with her. Not that I would. She’s right. I can barely keep my eyes open. I might have caught a few minutes of shuteye on the plane, but I’ve been up for more than thirty hours now.
“Both. Gracias.” I accept the cup of strong coffee and step into the hall so the young, dark-haired orderly can wheel the recliner into the room and set it up by the bed.
The idea of sleeping next to my wife—even if I’m in a chair and she doesn’t remember us—has my eyes burning.
Lourdes checks Grace’s heart rate and temperature, then gives me a terse nod. “Rest. She needs you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The chair is heaven—despite its lack of cushion—and I’m about to drift off when Jasper’s uneven footsteps echo in the hall.
“Fuckin’ hell.” He sets Grace’s duffel bag next to me, drops into the hard plastic chair the orderly moved into the corner of the room, and rubs his hand up and down his thigh. It’s got to be screaming at him. He didn’t get any more sleep than I did on the flight. “She’s been through it, hasn’t she?”
I can’t do more than nod. If I tell him about the past few hours, I’ll crack into a million pieces.
Jasper nudges the duffel bag with his boot. “I thought you might want her things. Maybe somethin’ in there will help jog her memory.”
Fuck.
I didn’t even think to bring it in from the waiting room earlier.
“Parker and Connor are goin’ into town to find some food. I’m headin’ back to the lobby. The doc has a couple of decent chairs out there. Better than this piece of shit, anyway.” He pushes to his feet with a grunt, the corners of his eyes crinkling with pain. “Just…let me know if you need anything.”
He’s my twin. It shouldn’t be this damn hard for me to have an honest conversation with him.
For most of our lives, we were inseparable. As kids, he was my protector, even though I’m technically five minutes older. In high school, I was captain of the football team, and he was the star kicker. We joined the State Troopers together. Applied to the Rangers together. Hell, it was only his attitude that kept him from making captain with me.
When the Cordova Cartel blew up that warehouse and ended his career, I should have been there for him. But I was in too much pain over losing Grace. I sat by his hospital bed for three fucking days, but hours after he woke up, I bolted.
“Jas…wait.” I run a hand through my hair, grabbing a few of the short strands and pulling to the point of pain. “She can barely string a sentence together. It’s like she’s too scared to speak. And fuck. She was tied up for a long damn time.”
I clock the exact moment he sees the scars around her wrists. His entire body stiffens. “We’re gonna find the assholes who hurt her, AJ. And once we do, they won’t live to see another sunrise.”
The emotion in his voice does me in. Suddenly, I need him to know everything. “She remembers Belle. But not me. Not…herself. We looked at pictures for almost three hours, and nothin’. Her memory… It’s just gone.”
Jasper rubs the back of his neck as he leans against the door jamb. “Give it time, man. She didn’t remember shit when you got here. Belle is a small step, but a good one. Maybe she just needs to be…home.”
I hope to all that’s holy in this world, he’s right.
“When did you become the optimistic one?” I ask.
He chuckles softly. “Nah. I’m still a cynical sombitch. Most of the time.”
“Fallin’ in love has been good for you. Remind me to thank Emi when we get back. And apologize for bein’ so much of an ass I wouldn’t even come to dinner the dozen or so times she’s asked.”
Jasper meets my gaze, all the humor fading from his expression in a heartbeat. “AJ, the night Austin PD suspended the investigation—the night you kicked me out and stopped talkin’ to me—I never should’ve said what I did. I’m sorry.”
Forcing the lump in my throat away is harder than I expect, but Jasper ain’t the only one who needs to apologize.
I reach for my brother’s arm and hold on tight. “You were an ass. But you were lookin’ out for me. I know you went to Harris not long after that and threatened to quit if he chained me to a desk for the rest of my life.”
