Page 132 of Juniper Unraveling

I move with the other bodies, keeping myself out of Ivan’s sight.

Standing over Crank, Tripp stares down at his fallen friend, and his lips peels back to a snarl. He spins around, facing the Legion soldiers. “You. I’m going to fucking kill you!” Rushing forward, his body is captured by Rhys, who holds him back. “Let me go! Let me fucking go!”

Through the throng of bodies, I catch Ivan kicking himself away from Tripp, and I have to believe he’s the one who shot Crank.

“I want him dead! Dead!” Tripp sounds like a wild animal, a feral dog growling and barking, as he pushes and claws to get away from Rhys.

“Enough!” Rhys’s voice thunders through the cavern, and Tripp stills.

The two of them breathe heavily, and Rhys’s eyes find me in the crowd. My stomach settles at the sight of him, the silent assurance in his expression, and I keep my focus on him to avoid looking at Ivan.

Rhys grabs the back of Ivan’s shirt, pushing him to his feet, and Tripp does the same with Damian. The two brothers lead both soldiers down one of the dark tunnels—one I’ve never ventured into—and pitch blackness swallows them.

Once they’re out of sight, the crowd breaks into motion again, and Crank’s body rises up off the ground beside me, as Scarboy, who I now know as Ratchet, and Rigs carry him away.

Chapter 37

It feels like hours before Rhys returns to the room, but it could’ve only been minutes. In spite of the blanket wrapped around me, the frigid cold in my bones persists, and I lie on the bed, shivering in the dark.

He slips beneath the blanket, and the heat that radiates from his body warms my muscles, as he reaches for me. I hesitate to turn at first, to surrender to that warmth.

He’ll know, though. He’ll think something’s wrong, and I’m not ready to tell him something is very wrong.

So I turn to face him. The metallic scent of his skin is a comfort, and I nuzzle my face into his chest. I’ve spent most of my life distancing myself from others, but right now, I just need the stillness. To feel grounded long enough to settle my head.

Thick arms wrap around my shoulders pulling me deeper into his warmth. “You’re trembling.” The low rumble of his voice vibrates against my cheek.

“Just cold,” I lie, tucking my arms between our bodies. Safely pressed against him, I dare the question lingering in my mind. “Did you kill them?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I know the one. He’s a high-ranking soldier. His father runs the show at Calico.” He’s undoubtedly talking about Ivan. “Killing him would bring war on us.”

“So, why bring him back here?”

“Tripp wanted revenge for Crank. He refused to leave him there. He wanted blood.”

“You didn’t?”

“I made a promise to you, Wren. Not to do anything stupid. Killing him would put you at risk. I’m not willing to gamble your life.”

“And if I wasn’t here?”

“He’d already be dead.”

“So, what will you do with him?”

“Wait. Try to strike a deal. Maybe Ericsson and Szolen will be willing to barter for his life.”

“Barter for what?”

“The ones they took tonight. We were too late. There were too many of them. All the women were taken. They didn’t bother to leave anyone behind this time.”

“I might have an idea. But it means getting inside Calico.”

“There is no getting inside Calico.”