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“Do not go back under. Not yet.” Nate took the spoon from Carolina. “I’m going to give you something for the pain.”

Jesse’s lips peeled back from his teeth, a dry, papery sound escaping his throat. “No.”

“You don’t get a vote.”

A faint line dug between Jesse’s brows, the only protest his body could form.

Carolina’s fingers brushed Nate’s wrist. “He may be afraid of sleeping again.”

Nate looked at his brother. Jesse stared back, and Nate saw it then—not just the swelling and bruises, not just the raw skin where he’d scrubbed blood from beard and temple, but the white-knuckled dread in the set of his jaw, the tremor in his unbandaged hand.

Nate lowered the spoon. “You’re safe. You hear me?”

Jesse’s gaze slid past him toward the door.

“Everyone is safe,” Nate said.

A rough noise rattled in Jesse’s chest.

Carolina moved closer. “Are you asking about someone?”

His fingers dragged over the sheet—once, twice—weak and searching.

Nate caught his hand before it could claw at the bandage on his ribs. “Who?”

Jesse swallowed. Pain tightened his face. “Izz…”

Carolina’s breath caught softly. “Izzy?”

Jesse shut his eye. A single tear welled and traced a path through the grime and stubble along his temple.

Carolina set the bottle on the table and turned toward the hall. “She’s in the front room.”

“No,” Nate said.

Carolina stopped. “Why not?”

“Not yet. He’s too worked up.”

“He asked for her.”

“If she comes in crying, he’ll try to get up again.”

Carolina did not argue. She turned back instead and rested her hand on the mattress near Jesse’s arm—close, but not touching without warning.

“Jesse, Izzy is here. She is safe.” Nate’s thumb stroked the back of his brother’s hand. “She has not been taken back.”

Jesse’s fingers twitched against Nate’s palm.

Carolina leaned in, her shadow falling across the bed. “She is frightened for you. That is all. No one has laid a hand on her since they brought you in.”

Jesse’s good eye opened. The pupil was wide and dark, tracking slowly from Carolina’s face to Nate’s, then over to where Bass stood rigid by the wall.

A rough whisper escaped him. “Good.”

Bass turned abruptly toward the window, his shoulders a tight line. Beau removed his hand from Jesse’s shoulder and dragged his palm down his own face, leaving red streaks on his skin. Simon bent for the fallen spoon, then froze halfway up. “Don’t move. There’s glass all over this floor.”

Carolina was already reaching for the broom propped in the corner.