Page 67 of The Wrecked One

“It was just a bad dream. You fainted and hit your head during the fall,” I said steadily, trying to keep my voice calm to lull her into a sense of safety. And it felt good to be able to do that for her since that’s what we were. Safe.

But for how long? That was the ultimate question. If The Collective could infil Carter’s team, what would they be capable of doing next?

“No, it’s something else. I—I don’t know.” She blinked a few times, then her eyes opened wide. “Wait, we’re okay. On the ground and inside.” She was finally coming around. Good. “Is your dad all right?”

“He’s fine.”

“Thank God.” Her shoulders fell in relief at the news. “What about Teddy and Easton?”

“Looks like they made it out, and with a guy alive to question.” I looked over at the phone on the dresser. “We should call your team and let them know we’re okay. Get an update.” Your team. Not mine. Right?

“Okay.” She cupped her mouth, and I noticed her jaw clicking a bit as if her teeth were chattering.

“Let’s get a quick message out to Mason first. Let him know you’re—we’re safe, then I want you to change so you can warm up.” I knew how worried Mason had to be, along with the rest of Falcon, so I didn’t want to delay that message. “We’ll call Falcon in a bit.”

She shifted her wet braid to her back, chewing on her lip as if still lost to whatever dream had pulled her away from me for so long between the fall and now. “Okay.”

I slowly stood, concealing a wince from the movement the best I could, then tried not to hobble over to the dresser. Suck it up. Suck it the fuck up. I’d been through much, much worse.

The phone was already on—and thanks to my memory, I had every former teammate’s number memorized—so I entered Mason’s digits but stopped myself from sending him a message.

“What’s wrong?” At her soft voice, I looked up to see her on her feet. Her white tee clung to her breasts, and her nipples poked through the thin fabric. She never wore a padded bra, and I didn’t blame her if they weren’t comfortable, but . . .

What a time for me to be noticing her tits. Did that knock to my jaw mess with my head, too?

“You should text him.” I cut across the space, careful to hide my limp, and offered her the phone. “Here.”

She hesitantly accepted it, typed out a quick message, and it immediately pinged from a response. Then two more times. Back-to-back texts.

“What’d he say?”

She returned his message with another, then tossed the phone onto the bed before rubbing the back of her head. She probably had a knot there now. “Glad we’re okay. He confirmed Teddy and Easton have a guy tied up in the back of their Explorer to question. Gwen is still safe with her father. No other attempts made on anyone else. I told him we’d call soon. Just need time to, you know, breathe.”

I nodded, unable to get my voice to work.

“You don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

I covered my eyes, hanging my head. She’d read the lie there if she stared at me any longer.

“Right as fucking rain,” I rasped before falling to my knees, my body no longer able to play pretend.

Because like yesterday, today, and how I knew I’d be tomorrow . . . I was a wreck.

26

MYA

The nightmare collapsed and folded in on itself, fading away into nothing when Oliver fell to the floor in pain. He needed me, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.

I held him on the floor, not saying a word, and when he tried to stand, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

Helping him to his feet, I took his hand and walked us into the bathroom, pleased to see what I’d hoped I’d find considering the luxurious bedroom. Maybe this home was once a bed-and-breakfast?

The en suite was quite the upgrade from the single minimalist bathroom at Sam’s cabin. And the soaking tub I was staring at was exactly what he needed to help soothe his aching muscles and calm his racing mind.

So, I went to work prepping it for him. Maybe for us?

Oliver leaned against the doorframe for support, watching my every movement, but didn’t tell me to stop.

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