Page 121 of Linger

“Yeah,” Diggs called back just as Maverick slid into the car, turning to look at us and eyeing the dog warily. “Don’t ask.”

“I kinda want to,” Maverick gently argued as Dare took off, peeling away from the building.

“She’s Lachlan’s,” came a feminine voice, filling me with relief just before Autumn glanced at us from the passenger seat. “Was.”

“What’d you call her?” Kieran asked from where he was fully turned around in the second row, his expression even more terrifying than usual. Then again, I couldn’t blame him.

“Chaos,” Autumn and I answered at the same time, and Alexis’ dad’s gaze snapped to me before slowly shifting back to Kieran.

“Why?” I asked softly, suddenly unsure of myself.

Neither responded for a while. And when Kieran finally did, his hushed words were full of a heartbreak I felt to my core. “That’s what I called Jessica.”

“I’m sorry,” I began, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. “That pain is...suffocating and cruel. I’m so sorry for—I’m just sorry. I wish I could—”

“Don’t,” Kieran said softly, making me choke over my broken apology.

Alexis’ dad cleared his throat to break through the tension between us and said, “I’m Conor—not sure if you remember. I heard about your back.” Gesturing to the blankets, he asked, “Mind if I check it?”

With everything that’d happened in such a short time, I’d forgotten all about it. But now that we were away from the building and the threats within, now that the adrenaline was fading, I wondered how I could’ve. Because the wounds were throbbing in time with my pulse and searing in some places. It felt like all my energy was being shifted to that pain, and I was so, undeniably exhausted.

“Tree, it’s bleeding through your shirt,” Diggs informed me softly, breaking me out of my self-inspection.

“Right,” I mumbled, my head bobbing, then met Conor’s patient stare. “Yeah, of course.”

I awkwardly settled onto my stomach on the blankets and watched Conor lift the dog as if she were a tiny puppy to deposit her in the middle row.

“You’re in the way,” he told the dog irritably before looking pointedly at Diggs.

“I’ll stay in the way,” Diggs said stubbornly. “I’m not leaving.”

“Understood,” Conor muttered, then carefully worked my shirt up my back as Diggs set his rifle down and eased onto his side next to me.

“You found me,” I whispered as he lowered his bandana.

His eyebrows drew close as he nodded before shaking his head. “We knew where you were. Waiting killed me, but we wanted to give you time to heal so we wouldn’t hurt you more when we came.” He lifted his hand, his fingers gently trailing along my cheekbone and jaw. “Tried letting you know—Autumn,” he added in explanation.

My head shifted, but just as I started telling him I didn’t know what he was talking about, I realized, “The drawings.”

Confusion lit his expression and had a seed of doubt forming in my chest.

“Were they not from her?” I asked slowly. “They were us—I thought it was Lachlan at first, mocking me by letting me know how much he knew about us. But there was a coffee cup with a lavender sprig, a bed, and a bloodhound. And there was a—”

“Willow tree,” Diggs said, head nodding. “I gave her specifics so you would know you could trust her. But she was supposed to tell you we were coming.”

“The room was bugged.”

“Got it,” he muttered as his hand slipped down to intertwine with mine. “Tree, I’m so damn sorry.”

“I went.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“There was no other option,” I reminded him gently, softly, hoping Kieran couldn’t hear us.

“If the only option is you being taken from me, I promise you, there’s another fucking option.” His fingers clenched tighter around mine. “I owe you a lot of explanations, and I’ll give you every one of them. But I need to know if you meant it.”

A questioning hum rose in my throat and was met with a whimper of pain when Conor wiped over a particularly sensitive area.

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