Chapter Twenty
AJ
Five minutes after I text my brother to find out where Connor and Parker are, all three of them crowd through the door of the tiny hospital room.
Parker’s gaze snaps to the bed. “Is Grace okay? Where is she?”
“Ease up. The doc took her for a CT scan. We do have a problem, but right now, it ain’t Grace’s health. Miguel Sandoval is comin’ for a look-see of his personal medical clinic tomorrow, and we gotta be long gone before he shows up.”
Connor pulls out his phone. “The plane can be ready to go in four hours if you want to leave tonight.”
I run a hand over my jaw, three days of stubble so thick, my beard might rival Jasper’s soon.
Is that why Grace doesn’t recognize me? I shaved every other day before.
Fuck. Focus on the problem, dumbass.
“There’s not a damn thing I want more, but you should know better than any of us that flying with a head injury ain’t exactly…smart.”
On the way here, Connor admitted he’s still suffering from post-concussion syndrome. When he’s stressed or exhausted, aphasia can make it hard for him to talk, and the migraines are no joke. Grace could have all the same side effects—and more—if we put her on a plane before she’s ready.
Parker pulls a tablet from her backpack, drags the visitor’s chair over to the bed, and props the device on the mattress.
“Near as I can figure, Sandoval’s territory goes south to Durango, northwest to Nogales, and east all the way to the Texas border.
The Cordova gang takes over at the Rio Grande.
Our best chance is Chihuahua. If the roads are decent, we can be there in five, maybe six hours.
Everywhere else is too far away. And it wouldn’t be too hard to disappear in a city that size for a day or two until Grace is able to fly. ”
“We’d need to find a doctor too—a good one. She can’t—or won’t—talk much yet. And it ain’t aphasia, it’s fear. Whoever had her…” I shake my head. “I think they hurt her if she talked back. And my Grace would’ve talked back.”
Jasper cracks a grim smile. “She was a firecracker. Took no shit from anyone.”
“There’s too much at stake to just hope another couple of days will make a difference,” I say as I scrub my hands over the top of my head. “Even in Chihuahua, we could end up pickin’ the one doc who’s loyal to Sandoval.”
“AJ, have you forgotten who I work for?” Connor asks.
“Or the hacker on Pritchard’s payroll who helped you find me, Isabel, and Veronica?
Zephyr can track down a doc we can trust. That’s the one thing we don’t have to worry about.
Keepin’ Grace comfortable during a five-hour car ride and not settin’ her recovery back… that’s a horse of a different color.”
“Hell, even getting back to the airport is a trek.” Jasper leans a hip against the wall and rubs his thigh. “If I had a hard time spendin’ almost two hours in the car, she’s—Shit.”
My brother suddenly looks like the cat who ate the canary, and I turn toward the door.
Fuck.
Grace looks so small sitting in the wheelchair. Small and terrified. Her entire body trembles, and she drops her gaze to her hands, tugging at the sleeves of her robe to cover the scars around her wrists.
Dr. Reyes glares at me. “What is going on here? I told you about Miguel so you could make arrangements to leave. Not so you could ambush Grace with all these people she does not know.”
I step out into the hall, pull the door shut behind me, and sidestep Reyes to drop to one knee in front of my wife. To keep myself from reaching for her—she’s too scared for that right now—I rest my hands on the arms of the wheelchair.
“Darlin’, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask ‘em all to come in here. But…they’re the only people in this world—besides you—I trust. We were tryin’ to figure out how to keep you safe if we can’t fly home tomorrow.
The guy closest to the door? That’s my twin brother, Jasper.
The other man is Connor Davis. He used to be an FBI agent.
Now, he works for a group of…well, I don’t know what they call themselves, but they help folks who don’t have anywhere else to go.
Then there’s Parker. She’s the best Ranger I ever trained, and she put her whole career on the line so I wouldn’t do somethin’ supremely idiotic like driving all night through cartel territory—alone—to get to you. ”
Grace glances up at me—just for a beat—then lowers her gaze again. “Why?”
“Why what, darlin’?”
The first tear rolls down her cheek. It’s so damn hard watching her struggle for every word. What the fuck happened to her the past three years that she’s this scared to speak—even to me?
“Grace, can I touch you? Please?”
I expect a nod. Or for her to pull away completely. But instead, she takes my hand. Her calloused fingers hold little strength, but still, she curls them around mine. This simple gesture shouldn’t mean so much, but right now, it’s everything.
There’s so much I want to say, but I’m afraid to spook her. After another quick glance at the door to her room, Grace releases a slow breath. “Why would she risk her career…for me?” she asks softly.
Twenty-four hours ago, I wouldn’t have had an answer for her.
Hell, I would have bet money against anyone being willing to make an illegal border crossing to help me.
But now, the words come easily. “Because the entire time she’s known me, I’ve been too broken to care about anything—or anyone—but you.
I pushed Jasper away when he needed me most. I managed to save Connor’s life—but only because I had some powerful help.
Those people in there? They’re my family. Yours too. If you want them to be.”
Dr. Reyes takes a step closer, but I wave him off. Grace’s eyes shine with tears. Again, I wait for her to find her voice. To tell me to open the door or beg Reyes to get her the fuck out of here.
Her fingers tighten on mine. “Are you and Parker…together?”
I’d laugh if it weren’t for the despair I find in the depths of her blue-green eyes. Keeping my gaze on hers, I bring her hand to my lips and press a gentle kiss to her palm.
“No, darlin’. There never has been—and never will be—anyone else for me but you.”
Grace
Relief swells in my throat, the lump so large, for a moment, it’s hard to breathe.
AJ has been so focused on me since he arrived, I shouldn’t have worried.
But I don’t know him. Even the small parts of him that are vaguely familiar—his scent, the way he runs his hand through his hair when he’s frustrated—could be nothing more than my own desperate need to find connection.
“Grace?” Dr. Reyes hovers behind my husband, disapproval tugging at his lips. “If you are not ready, I will take you to the atrium until everyone leaves.”
AJ squeezes my hand. “Say the word, and I’ll kick ‘em all out.”
Though I’m terrified of everything right now, knowing AJ trusts these people—that he considers them family—provides a small measure of comfort.
“I’ll…try. But…” Tugging AJ closer, I lower my voice to a whisper. “Help me stand up?”
“You won’t get dizzy?” His brows furrow as his deep blue eyes search mine. “The doc said you weren’t ready to walk on your own yet.”
“She’s not,” Reyes snaps. “Grace is still my patient, and I will have you removed from this clinic if you put her recovery in danger.”
The frustration simmering inside me—being stuck in this chair, my broken brain, my weakened body—boils over. I narrow my eyes at the doctor, and though my head aches with the effort, it’s worth it to see the surprise on his face.
“Not…on my own.” I turn back to AJ, a mild zap flipping the world upside down for a moment until I blink hard. “With…you.”
The love shining in his gaze tugs on my heart. He pushes to his feet and stands toe-to-toe with the doctor. “Was her CT scan clear?”
Reyes purses his lips, then nods. “Yes. No bleeding, swelling, or clots. Marta will come in soon to remove the bandage. The incision is healing well, and I used a strong mesh over the fractured bone. As long as she is not in danger of falling, she can bathe, wash her hair…and fly. Just be sure the plane does not rise above ten thousand feet. And she should still see a neurologist as soon as possible.”
The very idea of washing my hair is so exciting, I almost forget about the people waiting on the other side of the door.
Until AJ squeezes my shoulder gently. “Okay, darlin’. Let’s try this. But if you get too dizzy, you tell me. Deal?”
At my nod, AJ wraps an arm around my waist and slowly lifts me out of the chair.
The hallway tilts and spins for a few seconds, but then rights itself as I find my footing.
My first couple of steps are little more than me sliding the hospital slippers across the polished tile, but after that, I manage something that might almost be a shuffle.
It helps that AJ is supporting at least half my weight as he reaches for the door.
My stomach flips. AJ’s brother and his friends will expect me to talk. To be…me. Or at least to be…someone. But maybe being the woman who didn’t want to meet them sitting in a wheelchair—who didn’t want their pity—will be enough. For now.
We stop in front of a man who looks so much like AJ, if he hadn’t already told me this was his twin, I’d think I was seeing double.
It’s a little dizzying—or maybe that’s just the vertigo again—but I blink hard until some of the subtle differences between them come into focus.
He’s broader than AJ. Weathered. And are those… scars high on his cheek?
“Grace, this is Jasper,” AJ says. “Don’t let him fool you into believing he’s the older one. I got him beat by five minutes.”
Jasper doesn’t say anything right away. He watches me with keen eyes—not quite mirrors of his brother’s, but close.
“Hi, Grace.” His voice is gentle. Slower than AJ’s. Like he’s trying not to spook this wild, skittish thing in front of him. “Sorry if we scared you earlier. We were fixin’ to be outta here before you got back. Maybe…uh…meet you one at a time later tonight.”