Page 98 of Explorer's Revenge
“I suppose I can bear that,” Logan concedes as he squeezes my hand. “Go, you need to. We’ll be okay, trust us.”
“Logan!” Rick protests.
“She has no choice. If she doesn’t, the board could punish her. I’m not wrong, am I?” Logan looks at Ajax, who shakes his head. “She’s already in trouble for using funds to come back and help us. We’ll follow her as soon as we can.”
We are both trying to protect each other. He wants to make sure I don’t lose my job, and I don’t want him to have to think about work while he heals.
I kiss him, uncaring that Ajax is watching. “I’ll see you back home, okay? Call me day and night, whatever you need.”
“You bet,” he replies as I step back and look at the others.
“That goes for all of you. Don’t go back to radio silence,” I warn.
Arms wrap around me, and I realize it’s Wilder, his mouth brushing my ear. “Let us know when you get back. If the board gives you shit, then kick their asses. Wait for us, okay? We’ll be back soon.”
Nodding, I sink into his embrace, and the others join us, holding me until Ajax clears his throat. “The plane will be here soon,” he says.
Pulling away, I look over them and step back. “I’ll see you at home,” I tell them as I hesitate, my heart torn. “Bye.”
Turning away before I cry or do something stupid, I stride swiftly past Ajax and into the corridor, their chorus of goodbyes chasing me.
Why does this feel so final?
Why does it shred me to pieces?
I haven’t seen the guys in three weeks. I heard they are back in the US now, but I feel weird just appearing at their door. What if things have changed? It was easy to go along with this when we were together constantly, but after spending time apart, I started to question everything.
I’m scared, which isn’t something I’m used to.
It took a week of meetings and interviews before Ajax let me go home, and I went to my dad’s to spend time with him. I’ve texted the guys a few times, but I never know what to say anymore, and they were so busy preparing to come back that we didn’t have a lot of time to call despite our parting promises. Instead, I throw myself into looking after my dad and rehab for my leg. I can walk a lot better now. I think I will always have twinges of pain, but I’m not going to let it stop me.
Reaching over, I push a mug closer to my dad’s shaking hand. “Drink. Green tea is good for you,” I admonish. It’s the same fight we have every day.
“No offense, Maeve, but you’re annoying me. Go on, get out of here,” my dad snaps, and I jerk my head up from fussing over the tea.
“Gee, thanks, Dad,” I mutter, feeling hurt.
“You’ve been flitting around me with nerves for weeks. It’s time for you to get back out there. What did I always teach you?” he asks.
“Face your fears,” I grumble when he stares at me with a hard look only a parent can manage. “It isn’t that simple.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” he retorts. “No daughter of mine will mope around like this. Don’t use me as an excuse, Maeve. I don’t want you here.” I flinch, and he softens. “I love you, and I’d love to have you here forever, but this isn’t where your heart belongs. I don’t want to be your crutch. I’d never forgive myself. What are you so afraid of?”
That’s the question, isn’t it? I was so certain in the hospital and on that island, but everything is different now. I don’t know if it was the board’s analysis and questions or facing reality in the interviews, but it feels . . . strange, like it’s wrong to want to be with them. Maybe things should go back to the way they were before.
Maybe they don’t need me like I need them. It could have just been the desire to survive driving us.
“Have you spoken to them?” he asks when I don’t respond, smiling gently. “Kid, I saw you with them in the hospital. You care for them, so why are you pushing them away?”
Again, I have no answer, just worries and regrets.
The doorbell rings, and I stand, happy to escape my dad’s prying and knowing eyes. “I’ll get it. It’s your prescription.” Shuffling down the corridor, I open the door and freeze.
Five familiar faces stare back at me. “Surprise.” Rick grins.
I gape like I’m seeing ghosts, and Wilder smirks. “Since you didn’t come to us, we came to you.”
“Are you going to let us in?” Way mutters. “These bags are heavy.”
