Page 33 of Beautiful Scars: Unshakeable

"Stay." It's not an ask. Her fingers grasp at my shirt.

I look at Levi, seeing my own conflict mirrored on his face. We're both soaked and need to change. We need to check the perimeter and coordinate with the team. But leaving her alone isn’t something that can happen.

"We'll take shifts," Levi decides, running a hand through his wet hair. "I'll stay here while you get changed, then I'll head down and do the perimeter check and start the debrief."

I nod, and grab a pair of dry sweatpants from the dresser. Once I'm changed I lie down beside Sunny on top of the covers. She curls into my side immediately, seeking warmth. Her breathing settles as exhaustion finally claims her.

"Z?" Levi pauses at the door, his expression unreadable. "What she said..."

"Levi—" I start, but he shakes his head.

"No, listen. I want you to know we'll figure this out. All of it."

The words aren't easy for him to say, but his voice is sincere.

I study my best friend's face, seeing the same fierce protectiveness I feel on my own. "Yeah," I agree quietly. "We will."

He nods once and disappears down the hall. I pull Sunny closer, pressing my lips to her temple. Her skin still burns with fever, but her breathing is steady now. Each exhale feels like a gift after how close we came to losing her.

"I love you right back," I whisper into her hair, the words both terrifying and freeing. "We're going to keep you safe this time. Both of us."

Chapter Sixteen

Sunny

Icomeupscreaming,gasping for air, clawing through the fog of sleep like I'm drowning in it. My throat is raw before I recognize it’s me making the sound. Garrett's hands feel real, too real, and my nose is filled with the musky smell of his sweat. But instead of a cold concrete room, I'm enveloped in warmth. Two solid bodies bracket mine, pressing tight against me and keeping me secure.

"You're safe, Angel." Levi murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. Zane's fingers thread through my hair, the gentle strokes pulling me back from the edge.

My injured ribs scream in protest as I work to catch my breath. The pain meds help. They soften the edges of everything. They aren't like what I was given before—they don't trap me in the dark alone. It still hurts. I just don't care about it so much.

"Easy," Zane murmurs. "We've got you. Just breathe."

Sometimes during the day, when I surface from the haze, I find Levi beside me with a book propped on his knee while he reads—his free hand tracing patterns on my arm or my back.

Other times, I wake to Zane's quiet humming filling the room as he works next to me on his laptop.

Neither of them are ever far beyond my reach. No matter what time of the day or night, I'm never completely alone and for that, for them, I'm grateful.

The doctor comes regularly. I think. A side effect of the pain medication is that time gets twisted. Her cool hands probe and poke at my injuries while I try to stay present. Try not to cry. Levi sits in the window seat, his jaw clenched so tight I worry about his teeth. Zane stands next to him, watching closely.

"The ribs are less serious than we initially thought," the doctor says. "They're healing well. But these fingers… I've done what I can, and they're set well, but it's just going to take time. She needs rest. We should see some major overall improvements over the next week or so."

I don't want to call her a liar, but I don't think a week is going to do much to fix anything. Not the real damage anyway.

There are moments that give me hope though. Times when here and present. Times when I almost forget for a little while that I was ever anywhere else.

Those moments make my heart feels so full I can hardly stand it…

Waking in the early morning to find Zane asleep in the chair, his tall frame twisted into an impossible pretzel shape. His hand resting on the side of the bed, fingers half curled like he's waiting for me to take them even in his sleep.

Levi's calm, soothing voice easing me down into sleep as he reads passages from his favorite books to me. His fingers comb through my hair, gentle, like he's afraid of hurting me, but he doesn't stop—even when his voice turns hoarse.

They trade shifts during the day, tracking my medication schedule and making sure I eat like it's their sole purpose for living right now. I know that one of them is always with me, but sometimes I lose track of which one.

'I've got you' merges with 'you're safe now' until I can't separate the words or the voices.

The days blend like watercolor on paper. Has it been days? Weeks? The medication and the way my mind works now, leaves me unsure. Of everything.

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