“How’s she doing?” Jagger asked.
“Same.” I slammed the fridge door.
“I made her a sandwich.” Vigo took a huge bite of the sandwich on his plate, then continued with his mouth full. “She didn’t want it so I put it in the fridge.”
“Maybe we should call the doctor,” I said, pouring iced tea into a glass. “Make that appointment for therapy.”
Doctor Sterling, Cassie’s trauma surgeon, had given Cassie a referral to a psychologist who specialized in PTSD, but as far as any of us knew, Cassie hadn’t made an appointment.
Jagger closed the dishwasher and it started with a swoosh of water. “I don’t think that’s something we can do for her.”
“We have to do something,” I said.
“We could give her a good fuck,” Vigo said.
I choked on the drink of iced tea I’d just taken, then coughed for a good thirty seconds.
“Somehow I don’t think that’s a pyschologist-approved therapy,” Jagger said.
“Maybe she doesn’t need a psychologist-approved therapy.” Vigo took another huge bite of his sandwich. “Maybe she just needs a good fuck. I know I do, with our mouse specifically.”
Jagger scowled. “None of this is about you.”
“I know,” Vigo said. “It’s about Cassie needing a good fuck. I’m just saying, I wouldn’t say no.”
“Has she said anything to either of you about the accident?” I asked.
“Just that she still doesn’t remember,” Jagger said.
I reached for my phone. “I’m going to call Rafe, see if he can come do a security audit.”
Security was one of the tamer services offered by Rafe Maddox, Jude Carrington, and Nolan Hale. Former special forces, they’d set up shop offering comprehensive security systems and analysis as a cover for the covert shit they did, which I didn’t even want to know about.
They’d installed the security system when we’d first bought the house.
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Jagger said, resting his elbows on the island.
Vigo licked his finger and ran it along his plate, picking up the crumbs from his sandwich like a five-year-old. “You think someone’s gunning for Cassie.”
“I think it’s too much of a coincidence that she was run off the road a mile from where her parents and Bram were run off the road,” I said. “And if it wasn’t a coincidence…”
“Someone might still be out there,” Jagger said. “Wanting her dead.”
14
CASSIE
I was on my bed,listening to a story podcast, one of the only things I could do to entertain myself, when a knock sounded from my door.
“Come in.”
I knew when the door opened from the subtle change in the atmosphere around me. That had been one of the surprising things about being blind: realizing I could sometimes detect when someone entered a room through a kind of soundless vibrational shift.
“It’s me,” Vigo said.
I heard his footsteps on the wood floor before they hit the rug, but instead of coming closer to the bed, he walked past me toward the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” I called after him.
