Page 11 of Jason Bourne
Jason
By the time the sun fully broke through the coastal mist, the safe house smelled faintly of burnt coffee and antiseptic. Nate had raided the med kit for my side, mumbling about how “superglue and duct tape” weren’t real stitches. Forest sat by the boarded window, shotgun across his lap, half-listening to local radio chatter about a “missing Chinese trawler.”
Forest had taken Zoe and the women straight to the hospital, and then came back. We have been here for three days, keeping the Chinese away from Lane.
Lane hadn’t left my side all night. Now she hovered by the door, tugging on a clean black hoodie someone had tossed her way. Her damp hair was twisted up in a messy knot, flyaways curling around her face. She looked so damn breakable and so unbreakable at the same time that it made my chest hurt.
She caught me staring. “What?”
I didn’t bother to hide the grin. “You. Standing there. Alive.”
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks pinked. “Try to keep it in your pants for five minutes,sugar.”
I stepped up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Never.”
She snorted — then went still when a soft knock rapped at the door. Nate cracked it open, then motioned to Lane.
“Someone wants to see you.”
Outside,an old battered SUV idled in the driveway. In the back, Zoe Brewer sat bundled in blankets, pale but awake, a half-smile fighting through her exhaustion when she saw her sister.
Lane bolted for the door before I could stop her. She yanked it open, and Zoe’s face lit up like they were ten years old again.
“Lane—”
Zoe didn’t get the second syllable out before Lane had her wrapped tight, rocking her back and forth like she’d never let go.
“Oh God, I thought— they said— I thought you would die. Thank God they got some antibiotics in you,” Lane choked into her hair.
Zoe managed a weak laugh, muffled by Lane’s grip. “You look like hell, sis.”
“You should see the other guys,” Lane sniffed, squeezing her even tighter.
I let them have it. Some things even a man like me knew better than to step into.
A throat cleared behind me.I turned to see Lane’s father — all silver hair and tired eyes. His girls both chose dangerous jobs, and I was sure his hair turned silver prematurely.
“Dr. Brewer,” I greeted him. “Thank you for the update on Thor.”
He nodded, voice rough. “Stubborn dog pulled through. Vets say it’s a miracle — bullet nicked his lung but missed everything vital. He’s sedated, but he’s awake. He keeps whining for her.”
I jerked my chin at Lane, who still had Zoe practically in her lap. “She’ll want to see him right away.”
He sighed, eyes softening. “You brought my girls home, Jason. That means a lot to me.”
“Means I’m not done yet. There’s a whole line of bastards waiting for what’s coming.”
His mouth twitched. “Good boy.”
Ten minutes later,we were in the back of the SUV, headed to the airport Lane curled into my side, half listening to Zoe sleep, half staring out the window like she was trying to process being free.
I brushed my lips over her temple. “Hey.”
She blinked up at me, dazed. “Hey.”
“You okay?”
She gave a soft, ragged sigh. “No. But I will be. Once I see him.”
