2. Laney
At the hospital, we’re all given private rooms—courtesy of the airline, apparently.
They probably want to do whatever they can to stop us from suing for damages.
I don’t know the exact financials of the Riviera family, but I don’t think they’re desperate for money.
Then I remember Cade, and my heart sinks.
He needed money. It had gotten him in trouble before the crash.
If he gets a big payout for this, will it help or hinder him?
As for me, I’ve never had money. I have no idea what it’s like to live with it.
It doesn’t even seem real. The truth is, I don’t need it.
That month out in the wilderness has proven that.
There were moments when I’d experienced true happiness for the first time in my life, and we had nothing—a roof over our heads, but that was all.
I’m not so na?ve to think living in the cabin is anything like real life. I bet if I told someone who was drowning under debt that they didn’t need money, they’d probably smack me around the head, and rightfully so. Money could be an evil in its own right.
I’m relieved to be away from all the crowds, but I miss the guys already.
I haven’t been without them for any length of time since I came into their lives.
I’m going to need to get used to it, though.
We’re back in the real world now, and, somehow, we’re going to have to figure out how to get on with our lives.
I have no idea what that even looks like.
We’re not all going to be able to live in the same space anymore.
Dax is going to want to get his career going again, make the most of the elevated celebrity status the crash has given him, and use it to propel him into a whole new level of fame.
He needs Cade by his side for his day-to-day life, and Reed manages him, so they’ll be involved as well.
There isn’t room for me to be just a hanger-oner.
Besides, I have things I need to deal with as well. I haven’t had the chance to bury my mom yet, and I’ve got no idea what sort of condition the trailer will be in now. All my belongings are still there, since I never got the chance to collect anything before the crash.
As much as I want to cling to the guys, I need to go home.
Doctors and nurses flutter around me, making a fuss.
I’m given a hospital gown, and the oversized logger’s clothes are bagged and taken away.
I’m hooked up to a drip and try to remain patient while lights are shone in my eyes, and every inch of me is checked over, despite me telling everyone I’m fine.
All I want is to be left alone and allowed to sleep. The hospital bed is narrow and hard, but it’s clean, and still feels luxurious after what we’ve been through.
After an hour or so of being poked and prodded, I’m brought a tray of food—if you can call it that. It’s a bowl of some kind of beige slop, and a bowl of Jell-O. My expression makes what I think of the offering clear.
“Sorry,” the nurse says as she sets the tray on the table that swings over the top of the bed. “You don’t want to overdo it on these first few days back to normal eating. You can make yourself sick if you eat too much, especially if you try to eat high fat or high sugar foods.”
“No chance of getting an Uber Eats to bring me a Big Mac and fries, then?”
“Sorry, sweetie. Not for a good few days yet.”
I don’t tell her that we ate far better back at the loggers’ cabin. I wonder what the guys will think of the food. They won’t be impressed. Cade might even throw it at someone. They’re all bigger than me, though, so perhaps they’ve been given something more substantial.
I force myself to eat what I’ve been given.
I know I should be grateful, after almost starving to death, but my lack of appetite isn’t only down to the unappetizing meal.
I miss the others, and I’m fearful of what’s to come next.
We’re safe, and we all survived, and I should be celebrating that, but instead it’s like I have a weight in my chest, and it’s dragging me under.
All I can think about is all the secrets we’re keeping and what will happen if we’re caught out on our lies.
A hospital orderly comes and takes away the tray.
I lie on my side and stare at the wall, lost in thought. Maybe I doze a little, or perhaps I just reside in that dark place that exists inside me now.
A man in a suit, holding a clipboard, knocks lightly at my hospital room door. I jerk back to wakefulness.
“Miss Flores?” he says. “I wondered if I could ask you some questions.”
I’m self-conscious in my hospital gown, and I sit up, pulling the bedsheets closer to my chest. “Oh, yes, the sergeant warned us that we’d be asked a lot of questions.”
He smiles warmly at me. “I imagine you’re going to get pretty sick of repeating yourself by the time all this is over.”
Over? Is it ever going to be over? It doesn’t feel that way to me. I’ll always carry what I’ve been through inside me. I’ll forever relive it. It’s never going to be truly over for me.
Instead of saying what I think, I just give a small smile. “You’re probably right.”
He gestures at a chair beside the bed. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course not.”
He drags it around so it faces my bed and sits down, his right leg crosses over his left.
“Right,” he says. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”
“Sure.”
“Your mother died recently, is that right?”
His question surprises me. I’d expected him to talk about the plane crash, but I guess he needs to get all the background info, too.
“Yes, right before the accident.”
“And that’s how you found yourself in the care of Reed Riviera?”
I hesitate, still unsure what this has to do with the crash. “Yes.”
“How did you feel about that? It can’t have been easy, suddenly being dependent on a man who abandoned you when you were only three years old.”
“I couldn’t really remember him, so it didn’t seem like much of a big deal.” I find myself bristling, sitting up straighter, my shoulders tensing. “I was just grateful someone was prepared to be there for me. Without him, and my stepbrothers, I’d have been all alone in the world.”
“But Reed Riviera was supposed to protect you, to keep you safe, and instead he puts you on a plane that crashes, and you end up lost in the wilderness for more than a month.”
“Is there a question in that, Mr.…?” I realize he never gave me his name, or even where he’s from. “Who did you say you’re with again? The airline, or the police, or…”
I let my words fade, waiting for him to fill in the space I leave in the air.
“I simply wanted to ask some questions, Miss Flores. If you don’t like this particular subject, we can always move on.”
I look around, searching for the emergency cord I know is here. If I pull it, will someone come and help me?
I raise my voice. “You need to leave.”
“Really, Miss Flores, or may I call you Laney? There’s no need to be like that. I don’t mean any harm. I just wanted to talk to you.”
I’m such a fucking idiot. This man is clearly a reporter. I don’t know how he sneaked in here, but he used my naivety against me. What if I’d said something I shouldn’t have?
“I said get out!” I’ve raised my voice now. “Get out.”
Movement comes at the doorway, and suddenly Cade is standing there. His face is a rigid plane of fury. He doesn’t even pause long enough to ask what’s going on. All he sees is me in distress and a strange man in my room.
He looks almost comical in the hospital gown that hangs down to his knees. He grabs the reporter by the front of his shirt and hauls him out of the chair. The clipboard falls to the floor with a clatter.
Cade lifts him and slams him against the wall. The back of Cade’s gown is open, flashing his perfect peach of an ass and the tattoos running down his back. “Who the hell are you, and what the fuck did you say to her?”
“Nothing! I just asked some questions, that’s all. I didn’t mean any harm.”
Cade continues to pin him up, but he turns his head to look at me. “Did he put his hands on you, Laney? Did he hurt you?” He turns his attention back to the man and gives him an extra shove. “Did you touch her, you fucking prick?”
I’m worried this is giving the reporter something else to write about.
“Put him down, Cade. It’s okay. He didn’t come near me. He was just asking some questions I didn’t want to answer.”
“I’ll go. I’ll go,” the man says, holding both hands up in surrender. “Jesus Christ. You’re fucking insane.”
“You haven’t seen the half of it,” Cade growls, but he lets the reporter go.
The man scurries for the door and vanishes off down the corridor.
I’m shaking, and my heart’s going a thousand miles an hour.
Cade shuts the door and comes to sit with me on the side of the bed.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I want to thank him, but at the same time, I don’t want him getting in trouble.
That reporter is probably going to write about this now.
He’ll probably say that Cade is unstable or unhinged or something.
Plus, this won’t be the last time something like that happens.
We’re all going to need to get used to a little unwanted attention.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but you can’t do that every time a reporter tries to talk to me. You’re going to end up with an assault charge.”
“You think I fucking care?”
“ I care. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”
He shakes his head. “Laney, I’m already in trouble because of you, and it’s got nothing to do with the law or any damned reporters.”
I want to hug him, to have him wrap his arms around me and hold me until my shaking subsides, but what if the reporter comes back?
What if he brings a photographer with him this time and snaps a picture of us like that?
Will people be able to see that there’s more between us than just sibling love? The possibility terrifies me.
“I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks,” Cade continues. “Let them write their stories. Let them gossip. None of it means anything to me. All I care about is you.”
“That’s not true. You care about your brother and your dad.
Think about what that will do to them—Reed in particular.
And what about Darius’s career? If the press get wind of our relationship, it could end things for him.
People might not want to book him if they think he’s involved in some kind of…
” I’m not sure how to describe it. “…immoral relationship with his younger stepsister.”
I can tell my words have made him think.
I take his hand. It’s so big compared to mine, though it’s not like I even have particularly small hands. My nails are ragged, and what remains of them has dirt embedded deep.
I lean into him. He smells so good. I don’t think any of us realized what we actually smelled like back at the cabin, but now we smell of soap and shampoo, I can tell the difference.
“I want to protect you, Laney.” He shakes his head and glances away. “I didn’t before, and I hate myself for it.”
I squeeze his hand. “It’s not that you didn’t—you couldn’t . Those are two completely different things. You were unconscious, Cade. What were you supposed to do?”
“It doesn’t change what happened.”
I let out a sigh and close my eyes. I’m suddenly exhausted. “I don’t want to go over this again,” I tell him. “I can’t. I don’t have it in me.”
He leans in and kisses my forehead, and a well of tears tightens my throat.
A flash of red catches my attention, and I jerk back. I turn Cade’s arm to see the inside of it. Blood runs from the inside crease of his elbow, and I realize he must have yanked his drip out when he heard me shouting. He really is a little bit crazy, at least when it comes to me.
I gasp. “You’re hurt.”
“I tore out my drip. It’s fine.”
“Jesus, Cade.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Out of all of us, you need the most medical attention. Go back to your room and call the doctor back to redo your drip. You won’t be any good to me or anyone else if you end up unconscious again.”
“I’m not going to end up unconscious,” he insists. “I’m fine.”
“Have they even done a CT scan yet? If they haven’t, and you haven’t had the all-clear, then you don’t know you’re fine. Go back to bed, Cade.” I’m angry at him now, and angry at myself, too.
It’s like we need each other so much, we’re happy to hurt ourselves as long as it means the other person stays safe.
He lets go of my hand and gets to his feet. He turns and flashes his butt at me as he goes.
“You know everyone can see your ass,” I call after him.
“They can all kiss it, too,” he replies and saunters out of the room.
Despite myself, I smile and sink back down into the pillows. I don’t think I’ll sleep. I’ll be too paranoid about another reporter coming back, but my eyelids are heavy, and I can’t help myself.