Page 45 of Ramshackle
I stroke down my neck without being stopped by the collar, then push myself upright slowly to take stock of my injuries and frown when I don’t feel any of them.
I gingerly brush my jaw where Gordon had just punched me. Then slip my hand around to feel my lower back. I’m in some sort of large shirt, so I slide underneath it to feel the skin there. It’s not in pain or tender, but I can still feel the rough edges of a scar. Probably more.
My knee aches the same, but other than that and my back, all I feel is an overwhelming heaviness in my body. My mind is awake, if a bit groggy, but my body is still looking for more rest.
“Do you want me to get the others?” Dane asks softly when I don’t say anything more.
I feel the sudden urge to pee and shift my legs over the opposite side of the bed from him, looking up to check that the bathroom is still where I remember it. It’s dark in the room, with only a single lamp on in the corner to add any light while the shades over the large window to the rest of the bunker aredrawn. We’re underground, so it’s impossible to tell what time it is. Regardless of the time, the last thing I want is everyone in here while I’m just…not sure how to feel yet. About anything.
I throw the blankets off and test my leg strength to try standing. “No,” I answer finally. “I just…I need a minute.” Or a million.
It’s hard to wrap my head around what I went through. And that they came to save me. Why? And what about Vera? How long was I gone for? Does this mean Gordon is going to hunt them down and kill them? Are they all in danger now?
I grit my teeth together and wobble to a stand.
“Here—” Dane starts to move, and I raise my hand to stop him.
“No. I’m fine. I can pee by myself.”
Dane backs off, but I can feel his eyes on me the entire slow walk to the bathroom. I’m three quarters of the way there when my bad knee gives out, and I drop.
Strong hands grab and lift me before I hit the ground. “I’ve got you, little one,” a husky voice murmurs in my ear. A cushion of air pushes under my feet, and then I’m cradled in Jackson’s arms.
It’s dark enough in the room that I can barely make out his outline and that he has his hood pulled up as usual. His hands are gentle but firm in the way they hold me against him. I grip his hoodie and then lean my head into him with eyes closed.
I’m so relieved he’s here. He’s alive and well, from what I can see so far. I told myself so many times that he couldn’t die. He wouldn’t.
My hand trembles in its hold on him. I feel the urge to cry, to sob against him as I run my hands over the front of his hoodie to check for myself that he really is here, but the tears don’t come. I’m back, but the numbness of it all hasn’t worn off yet.
Neither of us speaks for the remainder of the walk to the toilet before he carefully sets me back on my feet. I give him a fewseconds to leave now that I’m here, and when he doesn’t, my lips turn down. “I’ve got it from here, Jack.”
He flicks the light on, and I cringe away from its brightness. It takes several blinks to acclimate before I can open them enough to look at him again.
Jackson looks the same as before the fight on the island. Black attire from head to toe, in his combat boots, pants, and hoodie. His piercing blue eyes are pinned on me with the force of a thousand stares. It’s a stare that sends a shiver running through me, but I don’t look away. It doesn’t unnerve me like it might others.
It makes me feel alive.
You’re worthless.
Important.
No one cares about you.
Irreplaceable.
It gives me strength when my own doesn’t seem like enough anymore.
The longer our stare holds, the quieter Gordon’s voice in my head becomes. I’d keep it going forever if I could, but my body urgently reminds me of what I’m supposed to be doing, and I regretfully pull my gaze free of his. “Can you give me a minute?”
His lips pull into a smirk that I know spells trouble. He closes the bathroom door.
With him still inside.
Hedoesturn to face the door with his back to me, but that doesnothingto hide the sounds I’m going to make that I am not ready to share with anyone still. If ever.
“Jack...” I start with a sigh, but he just waves his hand to tell me to go on. The very idea of fighting him on it exhausts me.
I have a feeling my shadow is going to be keeping this close to me for a while.
