Page 102 of Knotted Laces

“You’re lucky you’re not fucking dead, Attie.”

I let the nickname slide—just this time. Because he’s right. And because Cam’s gotten me used to Athena, to Cupcake. To accepting that I’m not what my parents tried to make me.

No,I’vebeen doing that too.

“I know,” I whisper.

I was scared out of my mind, huddled in the corner of the warehouse, clinging to the shadows, participating in an illegal firefight in a very not nice part of town, waiting for that sixteen-year-old girl—the only one old enough to know how to drive the van I’d found and loaded the other girls into—to get far enough away for me to make a break for my car parked several blocks over.

The men guarding the warehouse weren’t happy about losing their merchandise nor about my interference?—

The through-and-through on my side is more than enough proof of that.

“But I had to,” I mutter.

Lex sighs again and sinks down into the chair next to me, his thundercloud of anger evaporating like valley fog on a hot summer day. “I know.” A beat as he takes my hand. “But it was still fucking stupid.”

I want to laugh, but because that’ll fucking hurt, I just shake my head. “Yeah,” I say quietly, “it was.”

His fingers wrap around mine. “The girls are safe. They drove straight to the office and Connie met them.”

My throat goes tight, and part of me hates that my eyes start stinging, but I manage, “Great.”

A squeeze. “You did good, kid.”

I laugh weakly. “That’smyline to say after you do something stupid and somehow survive.”

He scowls, but only for a second before going back to teasing, “You always have all the good ones.” His big shoulder lifts then drops. “So, I gotta take what I can.”

I open my mouth to give him another one, but I don’t get to release my snark because the nurse walks in then, and he starts briskly giving me my discharge instructions.

It’s all the usual stuff—keep the wounds clean, coming back if I spike a fever, staying on top of my pain medicine and antibiotics.

And making sure I rest.

Ugh. The idea of rest when we’re this close, when I need to talk to Jean-Michel, when we need to put this thing to bed…

Painful.

But something I don’t have time to ruminate on because the next hour is filled with getting dressed in some old scrubs and signing paperwork and being wheeled out to his rental car.

Cam isn’t outside, even though I scan the shadows for him.

And I don’t have the heart to ask where he is.

He called me baby.

But he asked for space.

He loves me.

But might not be sure it’s enough.

“Don’t bleed in this one,” Lex mutters as he buckles me in. “I didn’t buy the insurance.”

I snort then grit my teeth together at the bolt of pain. “Hilarious.”

“I thought so.” He slams my door, rounds the hood, and gets in the driver’s seat, carefully navigating us away from the hospital and onto the freeway.

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