Page 34 of Wreckage

Elena’s pained cries tore through the wreckage of our makeshift shelter, freezing me where I knelt beside her. I had never heard her sound like this—raw, desperate, and in agony.

I’d promised we’d look at her injury, and I was doing that, really fucking hoping it wasn’t bad.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to focus, to push past the way my gut twisted at the sight of her curled up in the tattered blanket, clutching her leg like it was the only thing grounding her. Her breaths came in harsh, shallow gasps, her face pale, her lips trembling as she fought to keep it together.

She was losing that battle, and I didn’t fucking like seeing her like this.

I followed her hand, my gaze dropping to her ankle. The moment I saw it, I sucked in a sharp breath.

Jesus.

Her ankle was swollen—twice its normal size, maybe even more. The skin was already darkening, and bruises bloomed along the bone in a sickening pattern.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath.

Adrian crouched beside me, his expression grim as he took in thesight of her injury. He didn't say anything, but he didn’t need to. The tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched—that told me everything. He knew this wasn’t just some minor twist.

This wasn't good.

“Elena,” I started, but my voice came out rough. I forced myself to ease up, to push gentleness into my tone. She was already in enough pain—she didn’t need me sounding like I was delivering a death sentence. “I-I think it’s a nasty sprain. Maybe a fracture. But I don’t think it’s broken. Maybe… Fuck.”

She let out a choked, bitter laugh that made my stomach sink. “Oh, you don’t think?” she rasped, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before reopening them. There was something sharp in them, something I hadn’t seen before. Anger. At me. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

I stared at her, startled by the bite in her voice. Elena never snapped. She never let her emotions spill over, never let her hurt show. And now she was cracking apart right in front of me.

Adrian shifted beside me and let out a low breath. “I’ll get snow to put on it to help with swelling,” he said. “It’s not like there’s a fucking shortage of it outside.” He stood without another word and grabbed a shirt from his bag before moving toward the plane’s broken exit and disappearing from view.

That left me alone with her.

Elena let out another sharp breath and turned her face away as if she couldn’t stand to look at me.

I frowned.

“Hey,” I said softly, touching her arm. She flinched.

That fucking hurt.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering above her skin before I pulled back. The rejection stung, but I didn’t blame her for it, not after everything.

Still, I couldn’t let her sit here thinking she was alone.

“Your ankle will heal,” I told her, trying to sound as sure as I could, even though I had no goddamn idea if that was true. “You’re gonna be fine.”

She scoffed and wiped furiously at her damp cheeks, her fingers shaking. “Why do you even care?”

The words hit harder than they should have.

I stared at her, momentarily at a loss for what to say.

Did she really think that? That I didn’t care?

Of course, she did.

I’d spent years making sure she felt like an outsider. I had ignored her, pushed her away, and treated her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience in my life. And now, when everything was falling apart, I expected her to believe me when I said I cared.

Yeah. That was on me.

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