He knows me too well. I sniff the protein bar tentatively. It smells like peanut butter. I take a bite and find it tastes good. I chew it slowly, worried that my stomach will reject it.
Jax glances at Trey; they both visibly relax a little. Jax’s eyes return to me again. “Lean back against the pillows, Kricket,” Jax says while unrolling a canvas medical pack full of vials that are each secured by an elastic band. I try to move to follow his request, but I’m achy. I wince.
Trey moves beside me onto the bed, gently pulling me back with his arm around my shoulders. He leaves his arm there, bracing me against himself. Jax lifts up my ankle, examining the bottom of my foot. He selects an aerosol-like can from among the vials. Pointing it at my foot, he sprays it generously over the area. It instantly numbs the bottom of my foot. He presses on that area with his finger. “Do you feel this?” Jax asks, while probing the cuts I suffered while running over broken glass.
“I feel pressure, but I wouldn’t call it pain,” I reply. I feel far away, like none of this is real.
“Good. Keep eating,” he grunts. He uses a tweezerslike implement to extract a piece of glass embedded there. Blood drips off my heel, teardrops of red on the lavender-colored blanket. Jax’s brow furls as he concentrates on his task. Finally, he drops a jagged, bloody shard of glass onto the coverlet, unconcerned that it will probably stain the beautiful silk. He probes for more glass, but finding none, he rests the tweezers on the bed next to the glass.
Wrapping a cloth around my foot, Jax applies pressure to it. Selecting a silver tube from his pack, he unwraps my foot and smears ointment inside and around the lacerated area. Taking out a clean bandage, he diligently covers my wound before letting my foot return to the bed. He quickly lifts my other foot off the bed and performs the same action. When he rests my other foot against the cover once more, they’re both wrapped in bandages.
All my thoughts are far away when Jax looks up at me again. “I’m sorry that hurt you. Here,” he says softly, extending a clean bandage for me to take.
I look at it in confusion. My breath hitches as I say, “You didn’t hurt me.” I realize then that I’m crying. Tears are running over my cheeks, dripping off my jaw.
Trey takes the bandage from him and wipes my face with it. He rises from the bed to gather the blanket he was sitting on, pulling it over me. He returns to my side, snuggling up next to me and spooning me with his large frame while I cry big, racking sobs that I can’t control. Jax packs up his gear; he turns to leave but pauses instead.
Coming back to the bed, Jax squats down so that we’re eye level. “You saved our lives, Kricket. We would’ve died in our cells if you hadn’t gotten us help. Thank you. Get some rest. I’ll check on you again soon. ” He kisses my hair tenderly. I sniffle in response.
When Jax is gone, I hear Trey say behind me, “The Alameeda won today. They pulled us out of the sky, but that won’t defeat Rafe, just as it won’t defeat us. We’re together again. What were two is now one.” His warmth seeps into me and I find it hard to keep my eyes from closing.
Soft male voices flow around me, moving me toward the surface. My heavy eyelids open reluctantly. I recognize Jax and Wayra seated in the plush, high-backed chairs that they’ve turned and pulled nearer to the bed. Trey is sitting next to me on the mattress, facing them. Between the three, they have a 3-D map of the city blocks. Trey is pointing to a highlighted section that seems to be beneath the streets. Trying to focus on what they’re saying gives me a headache. My eyes lift to the window wall beyond them; it’s still opaque—I can’t see anything outside. How long have I been asleep?
I lift my head, but my neck is really stiff, so I don’t attempt to turn it. Groaning, I lie back onto the pillow. They all look up from what they’re doing to stare at me. Trey’s hand touches my hip. “How do you feel?” He strokes me lightly.
“Tired,” I murmur. I don’t recognize my voice as being mine. I sound ancient.
Wayra and Jax both get to their feet. Wayra lifts the Alameeda gun; I recognize it as the one I stole from Keenan after I tranquilized him. He comes to my side, bending down to look in my eyes. “You hungry?” he asks me with a concerned expression. “I found some venish—I’ll share it with you.”
I frown, my eyes closing involuntarily as I say, “You’re gonna share your venish with me? I must be dying.”
A surprised laugh comes from Jax at my comment. “Don’t scare her like that, you knob knocker.” His voice is soothing as he adds, “You’ll be okay, Kricket. You just need to rest.”