Page 110 of Revenge (Elite of Elmwood 3)

“You’re my cousin, my best friend. I love you.”

I shouldn’t be this happy. Maybe it was the drugs. Or maybe this was what security felt like. Regardless, I didn’t want this lightness in my heart to ever stop. We were all going to be okay. “I love you too.”

The next time I woke up, the room was pitched in darkness. Mads was gone, and the chair beside my bed was empty.

“Firefly,” a voice whispered from the corner, and I had to blink a few times to find him.

Brock stood in the shadows, too far away. “Brock.” My voice broke over his name.

At the sound of his name, he rushed forward, dropping carefully onto the side of the bed. “You’re awake.”

I reached my hand out, resting it on his thigh. “You’re still here.”

His fingers weaved with mine. “As if I’d leave. You gave us a nasty scare. What the fuck were you thinking, jumping in front of me?”

Despite the pain that was more prominent than before, I narrowed my eyes at him. “That I was saving your life.”

He shook his head, staring at our joined hands for a second before lifting his gaze back to mine. “Next time we’re faced with a bullet, let me be the hero. This shit is going to hurt my reputation, having a girl save me.”

I pinched him in the thigh. “Like you give a shit about your reputation, Brock Taylor.”

“Finally,” Micah burst from the doorway. “Who knew someone so small could sleep so much.” He gave me a dimpled grin when my eyes collided with his, and winked at me.

Fynn was next, shoving past Micah’s broad shoulders to shuffle into the room. “You’re awake.”

“About time. The coffee here is atrocious,” Grayson stated, carrying a white bag. “Hey, I thought you could use a latte.” He set the bag down on the hospital tray and pulled out a white to-go cup from my favorite coffee place.

“Thanks,” I said with a smile. Brock helped prop me up on a pile of pillows ever so carefully.

Micah stayed leaning in the doorway as if he was guarding it. “You look pretty good for a girl who got shot last night.”

I rolled my eyes. They were one of the few things that didn’t hurt. “If you’re into girls who look like they are on death’s door.”

Fynn grabbed one of the coffees and dropped down into the chair. “Nah. You don’t give yourself enough credit, JJ.”

Brock plucked one of the cups for himself, frowning as he gave each of his friends a pointed look. “Okay, this hitting on my girlfriend shit is no longer cute.”

“Says you. I particularly like it,” I said, taking a sip of my latte.

“Same,” Micah agreed with a rueful laugh. “Besides, she’s not just yours. She’s ours.”

“But she ismygirlfriend,” he reemphasized, brows furrowed.

“Are we really arguing about who owns me more?” I was too damn happy to see them to scold them over the fact that no one owned me.

Grayson cleared his throat. “And now we’re done flirting with my sister,” he stated dryly, only making Micah grin even more broadly.

I released a long breath, my chest lighter. Everything would be all right. They were all here. Safe. Alive. Mine.

I was discharged from the hospital on the same day of Carter’s first court appearance. Knowing he was behind bars gave me a sense of freedom I hadn’t felt in months.

Brock wheeled me out of the hospital. The man refused to leave my side and spent the nights on a cot in my recovery room. I had the most lively hospital room, and couldn’t help but have sympathy for the nurses who fought over being assigned to my room. They spent more time gawking over the Elite, giggling, and flirting with the guys than they did caring for me. Not that I needed them to, when I had four guys doting on me every moment.

Pretty sure I was envied by everyone at the hospital.

And the nurses were a bit too sad to see me go.

I, on the other hand, was so ready to go home, to sleep in my bed. I thought being home, the guys would chill on their visits. That also wasn’t the case. They had returned to school and still came to see me every chance they had.

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