Page 58 of Tactical Revival

Jaxson watches them leave, then turns to me. He looks exhausted. Dead on his feet.

“Oh, Mom?” Matty says.

“Yeah?”

“Uncle Michael said he’s gonna come pick me up tonight if that’s okay? He got a new update to Halo and I really wanna try it out. Please, please, please?”

I smile. He’s been hovering over me all day, so to see him acting like a teen again makes my heart happy. “That’s fine. What time?”

“Like seven?”

“Okay. You better have something green with dinner.”

“Jello can be green.”

I arch a brow.

“Fine. I’ll have broccoli. Aunt Reyna’s been making him eat better, anyway. I’m going to go text him. Hey, Jax!”

“Hey, kid.”

Matty leaves the room, bounding into the apartment and closing the door.

The air between Jaxson and me feels heavier somehow, though I’m not sure what’s changed. Was it last night? What almost happened? Or something more? “So since Michael and Reyna are taking Matty for the night, I don’t suppose you’d be up for some lasagna, huh? I have a craving that will not be sated.”

Jaxson smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “That would be great.”

“How’s Lanetti?”

“She’s doing okay, surprisingly. Girl is resilient.”

“It’s amazing she’s alive.”

“It is,” he agrees. “Anyway, I’m going to go grab a shower and maybe nap for a bit. You okay?”

“Yeah. I can call if there’s an issue, but it’s been quiet around here. It would be foolish of someone to walk into a fully booked B&B and try to take me.” It’s meant to ease his obvious nerves, but all it does is cause his brow to crease. “Seriously, Jaxson. It’s okay. I promise to yell if I need anything.”

After a moment of hesitation, he nods and heads back up the stairs.

“Hey, Jaxson?”

“Yeah?” He turns back toward me.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I am too.”

After pulling the garlic bread out of the oven, I set it on the counter, then look over the spread before me. It’s six forty-two, and everything is ready except me.

Lasagna, garlic bread, a Caesar salad with homemade dressing, and a freshly baked tiramisu, courtesy of Kyra Redding, cover one side of the kitchen counter, making my entire apartment smell like a classy Italian restaurant.

I press a hand to my stomach. Why am I nervous? I’ve eaten with Jaxson more times than I can count. Matty wasn’t there for a few of those either, so why does this feel so different?

Because I feel different.

Moving as fast as I can without running, I slip into my bedroom, then pull my hair down from its bun and run a brush through the dark strands, stopping only long enough to study the bruises covering half of my face.

Ugh. I look like a hot mess.

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