“Call it a hunch,” Booker muttered, shifting into drive. The wheels screeched along the asphalt as we took off.
Austin shifted in his seat, looking over the back at me. “Is there anything we need to be aware of?”
I glanced between the two of them, trying to figure out how the fuck I was going to explain everything to them. “Like what?”
“He’s asking if everyone we need to worry about is already dead, or if we need to be concerned about someone showing up at the hospital to finish the job,” Booker clarified.
“They’re all dead,” I confirmed quietly, turning my focus down to Henley. I ran my fingers through his hair, memorizing the feel of him. “No one will touch him again.”
I felt Booker’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror, and I wondered what he thought of me. They both barely knew me, aside from the facts of my job, and yet I sat in the back seat of his truck, covered in blood with their dying friend in my arms.
Silence filled the cab, aside from the roar of the truck’s exhaust, as Booker sped through the streets. My thumb ran over Henley’s brow, wiping away drops of drying blood on his skin.
Up close, I studied him. The tiny scar on his right cheekbone, the dusting of faint freckles over his nose and along his cheeks. I ran my finger over his face, his lips, his hair and neck. I needed him to know I was here, and I wouldn’t leave his side for a single second. He only had to hold on a little while longer.
“Keep breathing, baby,” I whispered, one of my tears falling onto his cheek. I brushed it away, but more fell. “We’re almost there. Then we can live a full, happy life. No more killing. No more blood. Just you and me.” I sniffled, not caring that his two best friends could hear every word I said. “We’ll buy a cute house, not too big. We’ll make it cozy, and have fairy lights all over. I’ll teach you how to take care of my plants, and you can teach me how to ride. But you have to hang on, okay? I love you.” My voice broke. I might never get to hear him say the words back to me, but that wasn’t what hurt the most. It was the idea of never hearing him laugh again. Of never seeing him roll his eyes at me, or strive to push my buttons.
Words were simply that: words. But a life with him? That was all I wanted.
He just had to fight.
Chapter 24
Henley
Ilove you, I love you, I love you.
Chapter 25
Henley
Five weeks later…
The little demon squirmed in my arms, running its sandpaper tongue up my skin. With the nerve damage, I cringed at the sensation. Feeling was coming back slowly, but I still had episodes where numbness would reach down to the tips of my fingers. It was usually on the days I didn’t move my shoulder enough. On the days I did, Grace would silently judge me when I walked through the door, dirt-stained and smelly from the ranch.
She’d still get in the shower with me and run those hands I loved so much over my skin. I still felt her touching me while I was passed out. Sometimes it was all I could feel when I closed my eyes at night. Not the bullet breaking through my skin, or the beating I took beforehand. It was always her.
The loudest, longest meow known to mankind erupted in my arms as I trudged up the steps of Grace’s porch. I shota look down at the tiny, furry beast. “Hush up, or you’re gonna give yourself away.”
Another meow came, this time loud enough to echo through the forest. Or maybe that was in my head, because this little shit was supposed to be a surprise.
“I knew a kitten was a mistake,” I grumbled, shifting the paperweight from one arm to the other to fish for the key in the pocket of my jeans.
The movement must’ve scared him, because I was met with needles piercing my flesh. I gritted my teeth, glaring at the fuzz ball. “Listen, there is nothing stopping me from taking your ass back to the?—”
“Who are you talking to?” Grace asked as she opened the door for me.
The kitten and I both froze, staring at each other. “Don’t move, and she can’t see us,” I muttered.
A gasp erupted from her, followed by a squeal. The kitten turned his attention on my girl, big eyes practically the shape of hearts as he took her in. He knew right away he’d be getting all her love. I glared at him as she swiped him from my arms.
“You got a kitten?!” She brought him up to her face, his little body scrunched in her hands. She kissed his tiny nose, and he meowed. She melted, and in turn, I became a puddle. Seeing her happy was all I needed in life, and I knew this would do the trick.
Grace had been going through what I considered the phases of guilt. What happened wasn’t her fault, yet she still blamed herself. She was getting better about it with the daily affirmations I’d suggested we incorporateinto our daily routine, but I still saw her struggle. Her physical wounds might’ve healed, but the mental battle remained.
“I got him for you,” I said, which was partially the truth. I’d been picking up some dewormer at the feed store and saw a rescue from one of the nearby towns doing an adoption event. I’d passed by, thinking nothing of it, but this little guy had reached his tiny paw through the kennel and swatted my arm, effectively catching the sleeve of my jacket on his claw.
I should’ve known those would be a problem.
