Page 32 of Wreckage

I swallowed, my throat thick with emotion. My hands shook as I took the granola bar, picking at the edges. I managed one small bite.

It was dry. Bland. I couldn’t even taste it.

Troy frowned and took it back. “I’ll save it for later.”

I nodded weakly.

The painkillers weren’t helping yet. I prayed they would soon. Myankle screamed at me, but I didn’t want to look. Everything in my future depended on my body. Having my ankle busted could spell disaster.

I let my head fall back against the pillow they’d found, listening as Troy and Adrian spoke and trying to block out the pain.

They were grim, their voices low and serious. I wasn’t so dumb that I thought we were in a good position.

Troy pulled out his phone again. I watched the way his expression tensed as he stared at the screen.

“No service,” he muttered.

Adrian’s fingers curled against his knee as he shivered. “It’s been a full day. Almost two.”

Troy exhaled. “No one’s coming yet. At least that we know of. They have to know we went down. I’m sure they’re looking.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I could hear the frustration in their voices. The worry. The things they left unsaid that terrified me. I knew what they weren’t saying.

If we weren’t found soon, we were in serious trouble.

I swallowed hard and tried to sit up.

Instant regret swept through my body. Pain flared in every fiber of my being, white-hot and unrelenting. I whimpered and nearly collapsed back down, but Troy’s hands were on me immediately.

“Elena, don’t.” His voice was urgent, his grip firm.

Adrian was already moving, his brows furrowed in frustration. “What the hell are you doing?”

I winced. “I— I need?—”

Adrian scowled. “You need to stay put.”

Troy narrowed his eyes. “She needs something.”

I hesitated, my face flushing despite the cold.

Troy and Adrian exchanged a look.

Troy sighed. “I’ll take her.”

Adrian exhaled but didn’t argue.

Troy helped me stand, bracing my weight carefully as I whimpered. There was no way I could put weight on my right ankle. I leaned heavily against him, his arm around my waist in a tight hold.

The first step was brutal. The second and third steps weren’t much better. I limped beside him.

A sharp, searing pain ripped through my right leg, and I cried out.

Troy’s hold tightened.

“Easy,” he murmured. “I got you. We can check your leg when we get back to bed.”

I said nothing. If I replied, I knew it would be a scream.

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