Page 5 of Never To Forever

“I don’t want to put you out…”

I give his shoulder a squeeze.

“Christian, dude, you wouldn’t be putting me out. I want to help, and I don’t want my sister awake all night and stressed out about her husband’s safety. You don’t want that either.”

He gazes at me in silent hesitation, but I can see the longing. It’s clear he wants to say yes to my offer. He doesn’t want to leave Haven behind when she might need him.

“Just say yes,” I urge him. “We both know you want to, and we both know I’m more than capable of handling this.”

The moment he gives in, relief floods his features, though he quickly tries to hide it. His shoulders relax and a soft smile twitches his lips as he nods.

“All right… if you’re sure.”

“I am. Trust me, it’s going to be all right. You go home to your wife and Oliver, and I’ll take care of everything else.”

* * *

The sky is pitch black by the time I make it to the oil fields. Even in the dark, the silhouettes of the heavy machinery tower over the rig. I barely caught a wink of sleep on the flight, but as soon as I step out of the truck that brings me from the private airfield Christian has for his jet, I’m in work mode.

"Garrett!" Mike, one of the night shift supervisors, calls out as he waves me over. "Glad you made it. We got a situation over by Drill Site Four."

He gives me a quick rundown as we walk toward the rig. The drill's been giving them problems, overheating, and acting up. They’re trying to get through a tricky stretch, and it’s been pushing the equipment harder than usual. It's not my first time handling a hiccup like this, but something about the way Mike’s jaw clenches tells me it might be worse than he's letting on. I remember what Christian said about Joseph and his accident and a small ball of dread forms in my stomach.

When we reach the drill, the machinery looks like it’s seen better days. There’s a faint stench of burnt oil, and I can see spots where something's been leaking, a dark sheen against the dirt.

I pull my gloves tighter and nod to the other guys already on site. "Alright, let’s get this beast back in line. Mike, kill the main power. Let’s do this safely."

We all set to work, our flashlights casting sharp beams across metal and mud. I get down on my knees, checking the pipes and joints along the base. Pressure’s building up in one of the hoses—it’s hotter than it should be, and the last thing we need is for it to burst. I call for a wrench and get to loosening a few bolts to release the excess pressure.

But something doesn’t feel right.

Rumbling, like the sound of thunder rolling just beneath my feet, vibrates under foot. I glance at Mike, who's looking around too, his face tense. He mutters under his breath and motions for us to step back.

The rumbling grows louder, and suddenly, chaos. The drill lets out a high-pitched whine. Before I can move, there’s a sharp hiss—then an explosion. It’s not huge, but it’s powerful enough to throw me backward, and I land… hard.

My head slams against something solid—a wall, maybe. The pain is instant, bright white behind my eyes, and then everything blurs. The edges of my vision go dark as I try to get my bearings, my hand pressing against my head where it throbs like a hammer.

Voices are shouting, but the sounds are muffled, like I’m underwater. I blink, trying to focus, but my head feels as though it’s filled with sand, weighing me down, dragging me into darkness.

I open my eyes one last time, glimpsing someone rushing toward me, yelling my name. Then the pain fades to numbness, and everything goes black.

CHAPTER THREE

MARIE

“Ugh,I can’t wait until I’m done with this. What’s the point of the SATs anymore, anyway? They’re so outdated.”

I look up and grin at Ally, my seventeen-year-old half-sister, who sits on the other side of my kitchen table. SAT study books are open and spread out in front of her, but Ally isn’t looking at any of them. She’s slumped in her chair, her chin resting in her hand as she scowls at me in obvious irritation.

“You’re not wrong,” I tell her, setting down the pen I’ve been using to score her latest practice test. “Unfortunately, colleges haven’t figured that out yet… or they just refuse to move out of the dark ages. Either way, you want to get into a good school? You gotta play the game and nail these tests.”

She groans, rolling her hazel eyes as she drops her head onto the table. Her long, chestnut-colored hair fans out around her, hiding her face completely. She’s such a pretty girl—tall and slender, though she’s complained to me more than once about her lack of curves. Of all my half-siblings, Ally and I are probably the closest. It helps that she’s the oldest and I can relate to her better than the younger kids, but she’s genuinely fun to have around. She’s sarcastic, funny, and incredibly smart. Like a typical teenager, even if she often questions her abilities and puts on a cool and collected front when she’s feeling vulnerable. I remember what it was like to be a teenage girl, and so I’m a sympathetic ear she can turn to when she needs some guidance or support.

“This suuuuuucks,” she groans.

“I know, but think of it this way—you get a stellar score the first time you test, and you won’t have to take the SATs ever again.”

She turns her head to look up at me from beneath the curtain of her hair.

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