Chapter Eighty-Four
Grace
I don’t remember much from the ride to the clinic. AJ’s arms around me. The steady beat of his heart under my ear. The smells of smoke and sweat. Parker trembling beside me with Nate’s arm around her shoulders.
But now, there’s pain as AJ helps me out of the SUV, through the darkness, and into an older clinic that smells like disinfectant.
Reyes tries to get Parker and me into separate rooms, but she grabs my hand and holds on tight. “No. I want to stay with Grace. Please?”
He nods, and relief loosens some of the tightness in my chest. Nate looks stricken as she staggers into the room without him. AJ refuses to leave my side, and I’m grateful for his strength.
Parker lets Reyes clean and bandage her hands, give her oxygen, and set up an IV, though her jaw never unclenches. Her gaze is haunted, a look I feel deep in my soul.
When it’s my turn, I sit quietly, my hand held tightly in AJ’s. Reyes swabs the angry line of stitches on my temple, then adds two more to replace the one that popped when Prophet forced the crown of oleanders onto my head.
I stay still, only a single whimper when the needle slides into my skin.
After Reyes has applied a fresh bandage, started an IV, and given me a couple of pills that he says will help with any lingering effects from the oleander, he leaves, promising to return to check on us soon.
I tap AJ’s arm and mime writing. I’m so tired of trying to make my words come, but there are things I need to say. To him. But especially to Parker.
It takes him a beat, but then he rummages in the little nightstand and comes up with a pad of paper and a pen.
“Go? Need time with Parker.”
His shoulders stiffen, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue. But then he nods. “We’ll be right outside.”
The door shuts softly, and I turn to Parker. Oh, God. She sits on the edge of her bed, staring down at her hands. Tears stain her cheeks, but she doesn’t make a sound.
I don’t trust myself to get up, but I pat the bed to get her attention. As if she’s just remembered I’m in the room, her haunted gaze snaps up, she swipes at her cheeks, and grabs her IV pole.
It’s awkward at first, both of us trying to figure out how to hold one another without ripping out our IVs. But eventually, she has her arms around me, and we both sob until we have nothing left.
“Grace,” she says, and a shuddering, wheezing breath escapes her. “The sound…” Her whole body is shaking now. “I can still hear it… I screamed. So loud, but no one came. I couldn’t even think…except that I really would lose myself. That he was right. I would beg…by the end.”
I fumble for the pad, my tears blurring the shaky words I manage to scribble.
“You survived. You’re here.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her forehead against my shoulder. “It was only a day…but…”
I write slower this time, taking the care Parker deserves. “I know. First time. Right after he took me. Four days. Then, year later. Tried to escape. He caught me. Eight days.”
Her breath hitches, raw and wheezing. “Oh, God, Grace. I’m…sorry. I don’t… How?”
Parker clutches my hand like I’m the only tether she has to reality. I remember that feeling. Even with so many other holes in the past three years—in my entire life—I remember the box. And how it broke me.
I try again. “AJ. Knew he was out there. Knew I had to get back to him.”
Parker chokes on a sob, swiping her free hand over her cheeks. “I didn’t know how they’d find us. If they’d ever find us.” Her voice quivers, thin and raw, like she just confessed something shameful.
“They…did,” I whisper, the words almost clear. “Nev-rr stop look-king.”
Parker sniffles, blinking fast, her chest hitching like she’s trying to swallow everything down. “I know. I know they would’ve searched forever if they had to. But in there—God, Grace—it felt endless. Like time didn’t move. Like I was already gone, and the world just didn’t know it yet.”
I squeeze her fingers harder, wishing I could pour strength into her veins. “You…here,” I murmur, slow and broken, but true. I wrap my arms around her again, pulling her close. “Safe.”
“Safe,” she echoes, as if the word itself is a miracle.
When the men come back in, eyes scanning like they expect an ambush even here, Parker’s composed again. Fragile, but steady.
“You will stay here tonight,” Reyes says firmly. “IV fluids, monitoring. Tomorrow you fly.”
I look to AJ, hoping he’ll understand how very much I want to go home.
But he’s nodding. “Whatever’s best for them,” he says as he moves to sit next to me and takes my hand.
“You’d still be in the hospital at home if…
that bastard hadn’t… It’s one night, darlin’. And I’ll stay with you the whole time.”
Nate drops into the chair next to Parker’s bed, stretching out his legs like he owns the place. “Guess that makes me your bodyguard-slash-entertainment for the evening. Don’t worry, I do birthday parties too.”
Parker’s lips twitch, a ghost of a smirk breaking through the exhaustion. “Pretty sure you’d eat the cake before the party even started.”
Nate presses a hand to his chest. “Words can wound, Lieutenant Loose Cannon. But you’re not wrong.”
She stares down her nose at him, brows lifted slightly, but her tone is soft, almost needy. “You’re really workin’ hard to keep your own nickname, Lieutenant Last Nerve.”
“No one’s ever accused me of being lazy,” he says, puffing out his chest. But in the next breath, he rests his hand on Parker’s forearm, lowers his voice, and grits out, “I’m staying. No arguments.”
“He doesn’t get near the cake. Or any of the food. Not until everyone else has eaten,” Connor says from the corner, arms crossed, a pistol strapped to his hip. “There wouldn’t be anythin’ left.”
Nate glares at him. “Bleeding out from verbal shrapnel here, and not one of you bastards is calling for a medic? Doc? You’re responsible for triage, right?”
Reyes looks at us like he can’t quite tell if we’re joking or concussed. “I…will check on the food. You all need to eat. Then rest.”
After the doctor leaves, Jasper returns to his post, standing sentry only inches from the door, and smirks at Nate. “You’ll live. Ain’t a bullet that can take you down, much less a truth bomb.”
AJ pulls me close, shifting so we’re both propped up against the pillows. We reek of smoke. Of burnt oleanders. Of exhaustion and fear. But we’re together. Our whole family is together.
Halfway through a midnight snack of tamales and fresh fruit, Parker turns her gaze to me. “That man—Prophet’s dad? How did he even know I was in the box?”
My throat tightens, and I squeeze my eyes shut. It takes all my focus to force the words free. “Abe. Told…himm.”
“Abe?” AJ asks. “That’s his name?”
I manage the smallest nod, then rest my head on my husband’s shoulder. I hope Abe is safe. That the FBI will help him—help everyone Prophet trapped there.
Parker coughs weakly. Nate picks up a cup of water and angles the straw toward her, but she waves him off.
“I don’t know when Abe shoved that piece of metal through the wall.
I was so out of it, it could have been there for hours.
But I saw a tiny crack in the fabric. And a single rough board—must’ve been how he got it to me—and I started pryin’ at them when it was still daylight.
Took me until the ceremony started to open a hole big enough to crawl through. ”
“Smart.” Pride roughens Nate’s voice. “Stubborn as hell, but smart.”
Connor and Jasper make a plan to stand guard in the hall, trading shifts every two hours, leaving just the four of us alone in this room.
Parker nods off immediately, with Nate watching over her. AJ pulls the covers up over us, wrapping his arms around me so I can lay my head on his chest.
“I love you,” he whispers against my hair.
“Love. You.” The words come easier now. Not perfect, not whole, but mine. “So much.”
His heartbeat is steady under my cheek, a rhythm I thought I’d lost forever. My eyelids grow heavy, the warmth of him wrapping me in something that feels like peace. Real peace.
For the first time in my broken memory, I let go, knowing when I wake up, I’ll still be…me. Still be held. Still be…safe.