Page 21 of The Chosen
“Hey.” His voice was gravelly, but unmistakably his.
“I’m sorry I’m just getting here now. I thought you were…” I trailed off.
“Dead?” he finished for me, exhaling a long breath and floating his gaze toward the ceiling. “I thought I was, too.”
I lowered myself into the chair beside his bed. “How… How did you survive?”
He shifted, his face scrunching up in pain. “It’s still a blur. All I have are flashes. I remember thinking that since the bomb and wiring seemed to be somewhat rudimentary, there might be a delay.” He smiled weakly. “Apparently, I was right.”
“I’m glad you were,” I said with a sincere smile.
“I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to remain perfectly still. So I made a run for it. Barely made it through the door before the blast threw me. Next thing I remember, I’m waking up here.” He gestured around the room, wincing before bracing his arm over his stomach. “Apparently, I was blown toward the dock. A passing fisherman found me and called for help.”
“How bad are your injuries?” I scanned his frame.
“Not as bad as the alternative,” he replied with a self-deprecating laugh. That only made him scrunch up his face in pain yet again. “I have a mild concussion and some bruised ribs. A bunch of lacerations, especially on my back from where glass got imbedded. My shoulder was dislocated, and I have a pretty nasty sprain in my ankle. One of my eardrums got blown out, too.” He lifted his arm to the bandage covering his ear. “Guess I’ll have to put any dreams of being a pilot on hold.”
“You’d hate having a real job,” I remarked.
“You’re right about that,” he said, attempting to adjust himself.
As he did, his hospital gown slipped, revealing a brand on his chest I’d never seen before. I squinted, trying to decipher it, but he quickly covered it.
I only caught a glimpse of it, but there was something familiar about the cross that turned into a sharp blade with a crown askew at the top. It reminded me of a mark my high school girlfriend had in the same spot.
At least the crown. Something about the jagged lines sparked a memory of asking her about it.
About telling her how I got the scars on my back so she’d feel more comfortable sharing with me.
But she didn’t.
She shut down, saying she didn’t want to talk about it.
“What happened with Victor?” Blake asked, pulling me back to the present. “Is Ariana okay?”
“She’s fine,” I replied, my voice somewhat distant. “She wanted to come see you, but I didn’t think it smart considering she’s technically missing. She’s at my place in Coral Gables right now.”
“That’s a relief.” He pushed out a breath. “What about Victor? Was I right? Was it a trap?”
I gave a small nod. “When I got back to the farm, he was there. Managed to override all my security protocols. I couldn’t even open the front gate. Had to scale a tree and jump over the fence.”
Blake scrunched his brow. “That shouldn’t be possible.”
“I thought the same thing,” I said around the tightness in my jaw.
The fact that Victor got past all the security I had in place bothered me more than I was willing to admit. I prided myself on being the best of the best. Finding vulnerabilities in systems before anyone else.
And yet I never caught the vulnerabilities in my own system.
Because of that, I’d nearly lost Ariana.
“How did he know she was there?” Blake asked. “That’s the part I don’t understand.”
“Probably because I answered when he called one of the Bratva soldiers I’d taken out up in Maine,” I explained. “He must have recognized my voice from when we spoke at the gala.”
Blake closed his eyes in realization.
This was the reason I’d insisted on observing Ariana and Victor from afar. Not engaging. Not interacting. I didn’t want to do anything that could connect me to either of them.
