CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Nova
EVER’S FINGERS WORKED DEFTLY YET GENTLY AS SHE applied an antibiotic ointment to my worst cuts. But after Kol had cleaned them, it was really only the ones on my knees that still needed attention.
“I’m putting some waterproof bandages on these so you can shower tonight if you want,” she informed me.
My nose wrinkled. “Given that I was biking for a couple of hours, I will definitely need one of those.”
“Try working in the blazing sun in a place where air-conditioning doesn’t exist,” she said with a half smile.
“That’s gotta be rough.”
“It is at times. But the highs outweigh the lows, ten to one. I just miss seeing my niece and nephew as often as I’d like.”
Just her saying that sent a pang through me at the reminder of how much of Owen’s life I’d missed. “That would be hard for sure.”
“Thank God for video chatting, or I’d be lost.” Ever covered the final cut. “You know … I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kol quite that protective over anyone but Skylar or his brothers.”
My stomach flipped. “Oh.”
A laugh bubbled out of Ever, throaty and free of any inhibition. “Yeah.”
“He saved me.” I said it simply, but it had Ever straightening and leaning back on her stool as she studied me.
I saw the flicker of concern there and pressed on.
“I don’t mean the fact that he was the one who found me.
Who kept me alive. I mean, he saved me. He let me feel whatever I was feeling and didn’t blink. Not even when it was scary.”
Her expression softened. “He gave you a safe place to land.”
I nodded. “He made it safe for me to tell him things I couldn’t tell anyone else.”
Ever’s blue-green eyes glistened. “That’s a gift.”
A pang lit along my sternum, and I saw grief living in those eyes. “Orion?” I asked, unable to stop myself.
Her mouth curved into a sad smile. “It’s always Orion. Hard to let go of someone who was such a fundamental part of your life for so long. Especially when you know they’re hurting. Or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.”
I had so many questions, and most of them were none of my business. But I thought something was interesting: Ever traveled the world for her work, never staying in one place for too long, never having a real home to return to; it was almost like she was keeping herself from putting down roots.
“I can’t imagine.”
Ever shrugged. “We’ve all got our things to carry. Sometimes, I think it’s good to remember that. It keeps us human.”
“Holding on to our humanity is the most important thing. Even when it hurts,” I whispered. Because when you didn’t, you had the potential to become what Travis had been—uncaring about anything others were feeling and only looking to feed his own twisted needs and evil pleasures.
“Even when it hurts,” Ever echoed. She snapped off her gloves and pushed to her feet. “I know we don’t really know each other, but if there’s anything I can do to help, call.” She pulled a card out of her pocket. “I might be in weird time zones, but I’ll always get back to you as soon as I can.”
I frowned down at the card. “When do you leave?”
I liked Ever. She struck that balance between kindness and take-no-shit I admired.
One corner of her mouth lifted. “Tomorrow morning. Gotta leave for the airport at three thirty.”
I winced. “That’s brutal.”
“Eh, I’m used to it. I don’t usually work in places with major airports. It’s typically pretty remote.”
“Where are you working now?”
“Haiti.” Ever tossed her gloves into the wastepaper basket Kol had brought over, then tied off the bag. “But I’m heading to Brazil next, a small village in the mountains, to help establish a new clinic. Never been before.”
“Never in one place for too long,” I said, seeing that my earlier estimation just might be right on the money.
She sent me a knowing smile. “Sometimes, it’s easier that way.”
“Never slow down long enough to risk staying put?”
Another of those raspy laughs left her. Ever was stunning. Those hypnotic, blue-green eyes and the badass air of her fashion choices. The fact that she was smart as hell and kind to boot. It all meant she likely had more than her share of interest when it came to romantic partners.
“You don’t pull any punches, do you?” Ever asked.
I shrugged. “I mean, if you leave tomorrow, how else am I going to find out everything I need to know?”
She grinned at me. “Now, that I can help you with.” She picked up her phone and began scrolling. “I keep an album for blackmail purposes. I present you with Kol’s superhero phase.”
Ever handed me the device. I stared at the image for one, two, three, and then burst out laughing. “Oh, I’m framing this one. Maybe having it painted. An oil painting of a masked, caped, tighty-whitied Kol in all his glory.”
As I quickly sent the image to my phone, I shook my head. Tiny Kol was adorable, and he would absolutely hate anyone seeing this. It was perfect.
“Please do it, and film his reaction,” Ever said, chuckling.
“You got it.”
She started for the door. “You’re right.”
“About?” I asked. But I already knew.
“Never staying somewhere for too long. It’s hard to think about building a life with someone when you already know what it’s like to have that ripped away.”
It was straight-to-the-heart honesty. It shouldn’t have surprised me—Ever was clearly honest and got right to the heart of things—but it somehow still did. And, at the same time, it cut me to the core.
The loss she’d experienced and the fact that she was still going … and more than that, making the world a better place—it made me want to find a purpose for my pain. It also made me realize I shouldn’t take a single second with Kol for granted.
As Ever slipped out of the room, Brae appeared with a snack plate and some juice. “Is it okay if I come in?” she asked cautiously.
A hint of nerves bubbled up from somewhere deep. Things had been better between us since we had our heart-to-heart, but I worried my freak-out would send us hurtling backward. That Brae would insist I move back in with her, or worse, go to some hospital or rehab.
“Of course.” I wove my fingers together and then unlaced them, repeating the movements over and over until Brae settled next to me on the bed, the plate of assorted snacks between us.
She was quiet for a long moment. “You know, when you go for the surprise factor, you really go for it. Kol? Grunty mountain man, I speak only to trees and my daughter Kol? Damn, girl.”
A laugh bubbled out of me and, with it, relief. “It’s a recent development. But he certainly packs a punch.”
One corner of her mouth kicked up. “I can only imagine.” Her nose scrunched. “Actually, that’s weird. He’s almost my brother-in-law. I take it back.”
“You’re not actually blood-related. You can still appreciate his hotness.”
“Do not tell Dex that. He already gets annoyed that Mav calls me Little Badass.”
That had me snickering. “Why am I not surprised?”
We were both quiet again for a moment. Brae toyed with the friendship bracelet I’d given her years ago—the one she’d never stopped wearing. “Scared the hell out of me when Maverick said you were missing.” Her breath hitched. “I’m terrified of losing you again.”
“Brae …”
“Only I can’t put that on you. Because I know it will just suffocate you all over again. But I feel it, and I think that’s where all the overprotectiveness and controlling stuff comes from. I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Not again.”
I put myself in her shoes. Maybe for the first time. I’d gotten glimmers before, but now I really let myself feel it. “I’m so sorry you went through that,” I croaked. “I’d do anything to change it.”
Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry you went through that. And I’d do anything to change it.”
And that was the crux of it. We’d both been irrevocably changed by what had happened, just marked in different ways. We had our own healing journeys to go on, but we could also help each other.
I wanted to grab Brae’s hand, to squeeze it the way I had countless times before. But I wasn’t quite brave enough. Not yet. But maybe soon. “I’m so grateful you’re my bestest bestie.”
She sent me a wobbly smile as she fished something out of her pocket. “I’m so grateful you’re mine. Think we could make that official?”
I frowned. “If you want to do some blood-brothers pact, you know that’s not for me.”
She laughed. “No slicing palms required.” She held out a friendship bracelet. “I know Sky made you some bracelets, but I thought I could, too. It could”—she swallowed—“it could replace the one you lost.”
Brae meant the one that had been found in the graves of Travis’s other victims. The item that had convinced everyone but Kol that I was gone.
This was like a new beginning. A fresh start. But also, a reclaiming. “I’d love that,” I whispered.
My hand trembled as I held it out, but Brae was careful not to touch me as she tied the yarn bracelet around my wrist.
I stared down at the colorful string. “It’s perfect. Thank you. For everything.”
Brae met my gaze and didn’t look away. “Thank you.”
Every part of the moment felt like a step toward healing—for both of us.