24. Reyna
CHAPTER 24
“You do not have to do that.” Kyra plucks a dirty cup from my hand and carries it into the kitchen.
“I don’t mind cleaning up,” I tell her with a laugh. “You both are doing so much for us.”
“Please. It’s the least we can do. You and Michael are practically family, you know that.”
It’s nearly eleven at night, and Michael is on his way here from the hospital. Kyra and Pastor Redding have made up both of their spare bedrooms so the two of us have somewhere to hide.
Hide.
It infuriates me that we aren’t allowed to go home. My bed. My sheets. My clothes. Here’s hoping it’s only temporary.
Kyra’s cell rings, and she answers it, then turns to face me. “It’s for you.”
“For me?” She nods and offers it to me. “Hello?”
“Reyna, it is so good to hear your voice.”
Carter. “What do you want?” I snap. My tone is sharp, furious, and frankly—he deserves a lot worse.
“To check on you.” He seems honestly taken aback by my anger, his tone shifting from joyful to cautious. “I’ve been so worried. When Lance called and said you were missing?—”
“And Michael,” I snap.
“Of course.”
“He almost died. Do you know that? Do you know he was shot, then suffered fractured ribs, a collapsed lung, and still had to trek through the swamps after being beaten while we were held captive?” Carter is completely silent, and somehow, that only fuels my anger even more. “He had a massive infection by the time we got him to the hospital.”
“Reyna. I really am sorry.”
“You’re sorry. You know, Carter, my entire life, I’ve looked up to you. You were my strong, protective older brother who could literally do no wrong. But you really messed up this time, and Michael almost paid for it with his life.”
“I know. I just… How was I supposed to know they were connected?”
“How could you not?”
“Reyna. I didn’t know. You have to believe that if I genuinely thought you could be in danger, I would have done something.”
“Did you seriously not put two and two together after I was attacked weeks after you put a man in prison?”
“No. Because I hadn’t heard anything about it. Reyna, I put bad people in prison every single day. How could I have known that this one would put you at risk?”
“You sure worried about your family, though, didn’t you? They had protection. Which meant you were worried on some level. Yet, you didn’t even take the time to say, ‘Hey, Reyna, I just locked a bad guy up. Keep an eye on your surroundings.’”
He sighs into the phone. “My family lives with me. Every single day. They’re here in Boston. In the media. Anytime I’m working on a high-profile case like this, I take extra precautions.”
“Then you should have done it for us. He could have gotten to Mom, Carter. Dad. He got to me. I’m just grateful I wasn’t alone.” I consider how that might have been. I still would have tried to escape, sure, but even as I physically helped Michael to those swamps, I don’t imagine I would have made it far if I’d been alone.
“I regret it, Reyna. You have no idea how much I regret it.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath, my attempt at expelling some of the anger searing my insides. “Look, I don’t want to argue about this, Carter. I honestly don’t even want to talk to you right now. It’s been a long couple of days—weeks, really—and I want to get to bed.”
“How is Michael?” He’s trying to extend the conversation, but I have no interest in doing so. He wants to talk? He can wait until my life is no longer in danger. Until Michael can go back to his gym and I can resume my days. As of now, they’re going to have to find someone to step up in my place at the school—at the job I love—because everyone in town has to think I’m still missing.
“He’s alive. Goodbye, Carter.” I end the call, then offer the cell back to her.
“You all right?” She sets the cell back down, and I plant both palms on the countertop as she moves farther into the kitchen and starts scooping leftover spaghetti onto a plate to heat for Michael.
“I’m struggling with anger,” I admit.
“Toward Carter?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t say I blame you there. What he did must feel an awful lot like betrayal.”
“It does. I mean, I can understand from his perspective. He really does put dangerous criminals away all the time. And I know that if he had suspected for even a second that my life could be at risk he would have told me.”
“But he didn’t, and Michael almost died.”
“Exactly!”
She puts the plate into the microwave and starts it. “Are you angry with Carter because of what happened to you? Or because of what nearly happened to Michael?”
I consider a moment. “I’m angry at this entire situation. At the fact that people do evil things and others like my brother get targeted for doing what’s right. I’m furious that we can’t go after this Zeke guy for what he did to us, all because we don’t have proof, even though he nearly killed Michael and me.” My eyes fill. “God has a plan. I believe that. But how am I supposed to cling to my faith when everything around me is falling apart?”
Kyra comes around the counter and takes my face in hers. She stares into my eyes like she’s looking straight through to my soul. It’s something she’s always been able to do. The woman can make you open up and pour your heart out, then help you put it back together without so much as speaking a single word. “I won’t stand here and tell you that you have to just put your faith in Him because you already know that. What I will remind you is that people choose to do horrific things because they are sinful. Because they themselves are prisoners of this world. God can take the horrific and make it beautiful, and something beautiful will come out of this. You just might not see it yet.”
I take a deep breath as I let her words sink in.
It took me a long time to see the beauty that came from my heartbreak. Truly, it wasn’t until Michael nearly died that I began to understand. Because he left me and joined the military, Michael saved countless lives.
He met Lance and Elijah, and they came here and opened up Knight Security.
And since then, Michael has dedicated his life to helping others.
I think of Sunny. Of the fact that he kept her and her baby safe when that man tried to rip the infant from her arms.
I think of Eliza, who was stalked and abducted.
I consider Andie, who was nearly murdered.
Each and every time, it was Michael and his team who stepped in.
Perhaps that’s the beauty in my heartbreak. That the man who shattered me into pieces is the same one who has helped put so many others back together.
The door opens, and Michael walks in, Lance at his side.
My gaze locks on almond eyes that I have spent countless hours staring into, and I know—without a doubt—our story is not done.
He was my first love.
And, God willing, he’ll be my last.
“How are you feeling?” I take a seat on the couch beside Michael.
He sets the folder he was reviewing down and glances over at me. “Better now that I’ve showered and eaten a meal not prepared in a hospital kitchen.”
I laugh and tug a blanket off the back of the couch. Since it’s well past two in the morning, Pastor Redding and his wife have already turned in for the night. But even as I tried to lie in bed and get some sleep, I found myself unable to do anything but stare up at the ceiling fan as it whirred above me. “I can imagine.”
“How are you doing? We’ve talked an awful lot about me, but not you.”
“Well, you were the one who was shot and nearly died,” I remind him.
“You could have died, too.” He sits up a bit straighter and turns, propping one knee up on the couch so he can fully face me. His arm is in a sling, but the color in his cheeks is back, and although his movements are slow and stiff, he’s moving. Which is a gift from God after everything he went through.
“I’m okay.”
“Are you? I mean it, Reyna. You’ve been through the wringer.”
I swallow hard as emotion wells in my throat. Truth is, I’m not okay. Far from it, even. But I am so incredibly tired of crying. Of feeling so helpless. “I’m managing.”
“Reyna. You don’t have to be strong with me. We’re—friends.” He hesitates before the last word. Before I can respond, he grins. “You told my dad off.”
I cover my face with my hands and giggle. “I did.”
“It felt good, didn’t it?”
“You know, it really did. It probably shouldn’t have, but being able to air it out felt nice.” I narrow my gaze. Michael’s father was never violent, but he had a mean tongue when he was worked up. “Did he take it out on you?”
“Actually—brace yourself—he apologized to me.”
“He did what?” And because I can’t fight the urge to touch him any longer, I scoot closer and drape my arm over the back of the couch so I can face him. My hand grips the hand that he has stretched out over the back too, and the moment our skin meets, I’m greeted with an overwhelming avalanche of butterflies in my stomach.
“He did,” Michael replies with a smile. “It caught me off guard. My mother and sister, too.”
“Michael, that’s great.”
“It felt a lot like healing,” he says. “And that was nice.”
“I’m really glad.”
We fall into companionable silence, and I start to draw my hand back, worried that I’ve gone too far. Michael tugs my fingers, taking my hand in his. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t more present once we got to Caleb’s. I?—”
“Michael, you took a beating. On top of being shot and being in an accident. Why are you apologizing? Honestly, I don’t know how you stayed on your feet as long as you did. Doc was shocked, too. He said for all intents and purposes, you shouldn’t be here today.”
“Yeah, he told me that, too. It seems I have a habit of surviving when others think I’m grave-bound.”
“Good. Keep it up.”
“I’d rather stop being in situations where I have to maintain those odds.” His gaze levels on my face. “I’m so glad you survived, Reyna. And I cannot thank you enough for bringing me out, too.”
My cheeks heat. “You would have done the same.”
“In a heartbeat.”
“You took a bullet for me.”
“I’d take a thousand of them if it meant you walked away alive.”
“Michael—” I tear up, the emotion finally getting to be too much for me to hide anymore. I need space to think, to find a way to put into words all that I’m feeling. So I withdraw my hand and get to my feet. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“Okay.” Michael stands and retrieves his folder, then tucks it beneath his injured arm and follows me down the hall.
Our rooms are across from each other. He stops outside his door, and I pause outside of mine.
We turn toward each other.
“Goodnight,” he says.
And I can’t fight it anymore. I rush forward and cup his face, then yank his mouth down onto mine. The kiss is explosive.
Soul-igniting.
World-tilting.
And I deepen it, wondering how I went so long without Michael Anderson in my life.
He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, his ragged breathing a perfect tempo for mine. “I can’t breathe without you,” he whispers. “The moments you aren’t there, it feels like my lungs can’t fill with air.”
“I feel the same.” I kiss him again, gently this time, savoring these quiet moments where we’re together, our lives unthreatened. “I don’t want you to move to Boston when this is over. Please don’t leave.”
His gaze levels on mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I don’t want distance. I want you. I want the life we should have had. I want you to keep promising to count the stars for me. I want a marriage. Children. A future. And we can’t have that if you leave Hope Springs.”
With his good hand, Michael cups my cheek, his thumb caressing my skin. “Then I’ll count every last star for you, Reyna. And I will dedicate my life to making you happy.”
He kisses me again, then pulls away, and I slip into my room, leaning back against the door.
A future with Michael felt impossible. But now, it’s right in my grasp.
We just have to survive this first.