Page 40 of Into The Green

I sucked in a breath which only made it hurt worse. "I think I hurt my ribs," I said, trying to shift to ease the strain on my side.

He settled me carefully on my feet and, too quickly for me to stop him, grabbed the hem of my skirt and hauled it upward. I yelped, trying to slap his hands away and his eyes found mine, an amused smile on his face. "Oh, please. It's nothing I haven't seen before. Besides, this is purely for medical reasons." He lifted my dress and his fingers glided across my side, poking occasionally. "I don't think they're broken. You just have some deep bruises. It'll hurt for a while, but you'll be fine. Come on, let's go eat," he said, dropping my skirt and turning away. "I went to grab some water while you were scavenging."

He'd left me?

My stomach rolled a little, thinking about how Jasper had been mad about him with the sprites. Because he wasn't careful enough. While Doyle's devil-may-care attitude and imprudent bravery made him a great friend, I realized I didn't want him to be the one responsible for my safety in what seemed to be a woefully unsafe place.

I wanted Jasper back.

The realization hit me like an ice bath. I didn't want him back because it was the right thing to do, because we needed him to find Jade, or even because I couldn't stomach the thought of torture. I wanted him back because I just did. I wanted him. I wanted his condescending tones and his smirks. I wanted his invasive empath abilities and the way he quieted my dreams. Because, while he was a genuine pain in the ass at times, grating and impossible, he had fed me, tended to my hurt feet, kept me safe.

"What are you thinking about?" Doyle asked as we sat in companionable silence, drinking water and munching on chestnuts and the couple blackberries he had found on his travels.

"We need to get Jasper back," I said honestly.

"I know... here's my plan..."

--

We stood at the edge of the property, each of us staring at it with dread. Doyle's hand grabbed mine; his fingers slid between mine. It was supportive, but at the same time, seeking support. It was a suicide mission and we both knew it.

We had decided to wait for sunrise, figuring the guards would expect us at night, would be on high alert. But when they saw the sun rising, maybe they would think it was clear, would get careless, sneak off for a pee or fall asleep. If they weren't slacking, in broad daylight, we knew we were fucked. But it was really the only shot we had except waiting. We had both agreed that wasn't an option, leaving Jasper to keep being tortured.

The sun was rising. It was almost time.

"Doyle, do you believe in prayer?"

"To a god?"

"I don't know... to anyone."

"Celestine," he said, his voice serious. "If you think you have any kind of connection to those angels of yours, now is the time to beg for any last favor they might be willing to give you. We can use all the help we can get."

As if on cue, a rustling noise had us breaking apart and stiffening. But then I felt it, a hot breath on my ankle then a wet nose on my leg. "Onyx?" I yelped, turning. And sure enough, there he was.

"Fat lot of help you've been, barguest," Doyle said, sounding annoyed at the glorified dog.

Onyx growled, the sound low and rumbling. I reached out, patting his head. "It's okay. I understand. I don't want to go back either."

I pet him absentmindedly as we stood there, my eyes closed, my attention focused on my prayer, hoping one favor wasn't all I was entitled to.

"Cece, we have to get going," Doyle said, making my eyes snap open.

"Whoa, what the fuck is with your eyes?"

"What's wrong with my eyes?" I asked, my hands flying up to my face.

"They're glowing or something," he said, brows knitted.

I blinked rapidly a few times. "Any better?"

"No, but we don't have time to figure that freakishness out. We have to go."

Then we moved, skirting the edges of the woods until we were behind the building where Doyle said the stairs to the dungeons were situated. We stood there for a second, looking at them. Doyle's hand grabbed mine again. "Ready?"

"Not even close."

"Me either," he agreed. "Let's go."