Page 99 of The Auction
I step forward to help her stand while Jaxon steadies the chair. Shanae moves in to support her other side, and together we ease her down into the seat.
“You couldn’t beat me if you got started yesterday,” Mom says, patting his hand with a smirk.
Jaxon grins and glances over at me. “Well… at least I know where you get your sass from.”
“Cassidy…”
The voice is faint, barely there, but I know it instantly. My mom.
I whip my head toward the sound, but the hallway is endless, swallowed in shadow. Machines buzz somewhere ahead, a dull, urgent hum. I run—at least I think I do—but my legs feel heavy, like I’m wading through water.
“Cass, where are you?”
It takes forever to reach her.
She’s in the hospital bed, skin pale against the thin sheets.
“I’m here mama.” I grab her hand and yank it back with a gasp. It’s hard. Cold. Like she’s already dead and long gone.
“No,” I whisper, my chest caving in. I force myself to look at her face, but what’s staring back at me makes my stomach turn.
Her eyes are glazed and lifeless, fixed on something just beyond me.
“No!” My hands fly to my mouth to hold back the sob threatening to tear me in half. I grab her hand again, patting it like I can warm it back to life. “Mama, please?—”
“It’s time to go.” Jonathan is suddenly right next to me. His grip on my wrist is like iron, dragging me backward.
“Let me go!” I scream, swinging at him with my free hand. My fist connects with his arm, his chest, anywhere I can reach. No matter how hard I hit, it feels like I’m hitting nothing. “I need to say goodbye to her!Let me say goodbye!”
He doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t even blink. His jaw is locked, eyes straight ahead, face carved from stone.
“Please, Jonathan.” My feet skid along the floor as he hauls me away, the bed—her—getting smaller, and smaller?—
We’re almost to the doorway when he finally turns. His voice is sharp, cutting through me.
“Wake up, Cricket.”
The tone shifts mid-syllable, Jonathan’s voice dissolving into Jaxon’s.
“Wake up, Cricket.”
I jerk upright, gasping. The hospital room is gone. The shadows rearrange into Jaxon’s face, inches from mine, his near-black eyes locked on me with that same fierce intensity he always has when something’s wrong.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a lifeline in the dark.
Tears spill before I can stop them. “She died,” I choke out. “She was dead.”
“Oh. No, baby.” He doesn’t hesitate—just pulls me against him like he can physically shield me from the dream. His chest is warm, his scent grounding me as he tucks my head underhis chin. His leg hooks over mine, his arms tightening until I’m wrapped in him completely, hidden away from the world.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, stroking my hair. “She’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.”
And I let myself sink into that safety, sobbing into his skin until the ache in my chest is the only thing left keeping me awake.
The tray’s heavy in my hands, but the smell makes it worth it—biscuits and gravy, eggs, crispy tater tots, coffee still steaming, and a single white lily in a bud vase. I nudge the door open with my shoulder and pause in the doorway.
She’s still asleep.
Raven-black hair spilled across the dark satin pillowcase, lips parted just slightly, face soft without the usual guarded edge. Yeah… I could get used to this. Waking up to her and this view every damn day.
