“Sleep,” Bullet says while gazing up at me. “We’ll take care of both of you.”
Moving to the couch where Pidge set up a bed for me, sleep doesn’t feel like it’s possible, but I’m out before my head even touches the pillow. Thankfully, I dream of nothing but darkness and wake late the next morning in a hot flush of panic.
Falco survives the night, but he contracts a fever, which puts his survival on shaky ground. While I slept, Pidge and the others cleaned up the cabin and somehow made it look like there had never been an attack here. The blood is gone, mostly. The bodies have vanished from the porch, one of the coffee tables has been repaired, and a new vase taken from a different room now holds the plastic flowers in the hallway.
It’s like last night was a dream.
I send a message to my brother thanking him for letting me use the cabin and splurging about how much I love it here, so I’m probably going to stay the week. He tells me that’s a great idea because Mom has gone full bridezilla mode and no one is safe.
Shit. The wedding.
I’d forgotten about that.
It doesn’t feel real. Nothing does.
In fact, everything feels different. The clothes on my skin, the air in my lungs as I drink coffee on the porch and stare off into the forest, even the food Rex cooks. It’s like I’ve woken up for the first time in my life and I can’t explain it.
Outside of maintaining appearances on social media, I spend most of my time at Falco’s bedside. Bullet cleaned up my gunpowder attempt on Falco’s abdomen, and I inspect all the careful stitches up and down Falco’s arm. They’ll scar, deeply, but he’s alive and that’s all that matters.
The days begin trickling by.
Bullet continues to donate blood until he’s satisfied that Falco’s system is back in full swing. I nurse his fever with cool towels and regular cool baths, all to keep his temperature down. Bulletshows me a couple of military field tricks involving ice chips under Falco’s tongue and Rex teaches me how to load and unload a gun in the event that I might need to do exactly that.
Then, five days after those assassins tore into the cabin and changed my life forever, Falco finally wakes up.
25
FALCO
“Careful,” comes a soft voice to my right as warm, orange light trickles past my eyelashes. “Don’t move too fast.”
I know that voice.
My mind is thick, like my thoughts are trudging through sludge and taking far too long to walk from my mind to my lips. I blink and the world remains blurred, but the orange light grows brighter with each flicker of my eyes.
Then they’re open and a face floats above me. Green eyes, dark from the shadows crossing her face as the orange light glows from near her, and auburn hair that’s dark rust in the low light.
I know that face.
Everything comes back to me painfully slowly. The assassins. The fight in the hallway. The fight in the living room. The man in Aerin’s bedroom?—
That face. That voice. Aerin.
I know her.
My dry throat scrapes together as I fight to find the words and something must make it out because her eyes dart down to my lips.
“We’re safe. Pidge is here with Bullet and Rex. Bullet’s patched you up as best he can. Rex has been keeping the place secure, and Pidge has been attempting to cook but between you and me?” Aerin leans in close. “It’s not exactly cooking.”
They’re here.
Thank god.
Knowing I was fading while Aerin was over me in such a panic is the most scared I’ve ever felt in my life. Leaving her to fight alone without me would have become my biggest regret had I woken up to find her gone, if I woke up at all.
But Pidge is here.
That relaxes me instantly.
