“You called a doctor?”
“Of course I did. You’re barely standing on your own two feet. I told them to interview you at the clinic. Not sure they’ll let me in the room, but I’ll try,” He explains with a squeeze of my hand after the officers turn their backs.
I nod, taking one last look at the canyon behind us, barely a hint of it ever being there as it’s swallowed by the shadows of the night.
We reach the patrol car that’s already bracketed by a stern-faced Owen and a less intimidating Mary, and Jack peels Marigold off my sweaty back. Being separated from this weathered yellow bag evokes a twist of sadness in my gut. When Jack moves to put her in the trunk with his own backpack, my hand shoots out, halting his movements.
“Can I keep her with me?”
His eyes crease with concern for a second before he nods.
This is it. He thinks I’m nuts. Maybe I am, but Marigold and I both started this trek with a whole truckload of weight, and here we are, days later, pounds lighter and slightly worse for the wear.
Murder accusations aside, I’ve shed the weight I brought into this canyon. But the feel of this backpack’s many rips and tears, the sight of all the scuffs, blood, and dirt—it’s a comfort, seeing the evidence of everything we overcame together.
Officer Owen tracks every move we make, his gaze laced with suspicion. Jack places his bag in the trunk, and his shirt clings to his back, damp with sweat. Mary smirks when he catches me admiring Jack’s muscles.
My legs twitch as I slowly lower myself into the back of the open police car, my body using its last energy reserves on the descent.
Those reserves really must have been empty, because the next thing I know, the car has stopped, and Jack is murmuring my name when my head lifts from his shoulder.
“I’m innocent,” I mumble as I startle awake.
Owen and Mary have already climbed out, standing sentry a few feet from the open door, and Jack turns and places a hand on mine, catching my gaze.
His voice is gravelly when he speaks. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Let the doctor check you out, then answer their questions. In a few hours, you’ll get to have that shower I promised you and sleep in a moderately comfortable bed.”
“I’d kill for you to take me to bed right now,” I groan. Then I roll my lips in and pinch my eyes shut. “Yup…I heard it. Pretend I never said that.”
He tries to hide the smile that creeps across his face.
“I actually planned on taking the shuttle back to the SouthRim,” I grimace. “But that’s when I thought I’d emerge midday, at the latest.”
The four-hour shuttle ride would be pure torture to endure, even if it weren’t too late to catch the last one.
“I have a room for you. But considering we still don’t know who’s behind all this, I’d feel more comfortable if I stayed close. I’ll sleep on the sofa, or the floor, or in the hallway outside your door, but?—”
“Jack, it’s okay. I’d actually prefer not to be alone.” I smile, hoping this protectiveness of his extends beyond the next few days, although I have my doubts when he’s already started reinforcing his walls.
His shoulders relax a fraction before he nods and climbs out. I follow after him, scooting across the seat, courage seeping into me with the squeeze of his palm against mine.
“That’s also assuming I’m not arrested and put in a cell,” I mumble as I get to my feet again.
“That. Will not. Happen.” The intensity and the fire in each word make me want to curl up against his chest.
Yup, I’ve still got it bad.
“Okay, then. Let’s get this over with.” My mouth curves in a reluctant smile. It’s a Band-Aid. I know I’ll fall apart later. But Jack’s steady presence as he leads me to the medical building is an anchor, albeit a temporary one. It’s exactly what I need to successfully hold it together, at least until I’m back in a hotel room, safe to finally let out all those emotions that have been building up over the last few days.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“You don’t let her out of your sight,” Jack commands, pinning Owen with his icy stare. “We don’t know who’s behind everything, and Willow could still be in danger.”
I’m hooked up to an IV, receiving fluids for dehydration, and melting at the growly man being all protective and ruining any future prospects for me.
Apparently, I’d forgotten to drink enough water as we made our way out of the canyon. I blame the stress and my handsome distraction of a hiking partner. I’m not beating myself up about it, though. I still made it out of the canyon alive…mostly.
“We’ll take care of her,” Mary chirps, lifting a hand to pat Jack on the shoulder before dropping it when Jack frowns at the motion. “Sorry. Forgot about the no-touching thing,” Mary adds, his features softening.
