Chapter Forty-Six Hollis
Chapter Forty-Six
Hollis
Jason’s weight crushed me down until the last chunk of debris hissed out in the rain. The metallic tang of jet fuel burned my nose; branches cracked under boots and shouts tore through the storm—calls for Gwen, for Easton.
The clearing was chaos. Flames licked at twisted metal, rotor blades stuck in the muck. I caught the faint sound of coughing over static in my comms.
Jason hauled Tristan and me upright, and we sprinted toward the wreckage. The helo had taken out one of the SUVs, but my mother was alive, lying on the wet ground off to the side of the crash.
We clawed through smoke and splintered branches, the world redacted to static, until we reached the team fighting to pull Easton and Gwen free.
Please be okay. Please, God, please.
Jason kept me from collapsing at the sight of Jesse and Griffin pulling Gwen out, her body bloodied and limp. He banded his arm across my chest, an iron bar against the shaking, as Gideon and Ryder helped Easton out next.
Easton had one arm hanging at the wrong angle, blood streaking down his temple, but he was making sounds, trying to lift his good arm as though to reach for Gwen. Then his head dropped forward like he’d had a delayed knockout, and his body went limp, nearly pulling the two men down with him.
“Gwen has a pulse, but it’s weak,” Jesse said, and Alex swapped places with him to help with CPR as Jesse called to the second pilot for an immediate medevac assist.
I covered my mouth and watched as both Gwen and Easton received CPR, and Jason kept me pinned against him.
“You get the son of a bitch?” someone yelled out.
“He’s down. It was Cassian’s dad. An RPG,” another voice hollered back.
The next movements bled together—sirens, stretchers, oxygen masks, a blur of faces and wet ground littered with traitors—until somehow Jason got me out of those woods and up to the seventh floor of a hospital.
One call from my father to the prime minister had the entire wing cleared out for only our family.
Forty-five minutes had crawled by since Gwen and Easton disappeared behind closed doors into surgery. No updates yet.
My mother was in the next room, unconscious, waiting for Tristan’s antidote. Dad hadn’t left her side. Julian paced the hall with the rest of Falcon Falls. Even Carter was wearing down the floors.
Jason and my father had insisted I stay in bed until I also received the antidote, though I was perfectly fine aside from a few scratches and bruises.
As for Lyra? Gideon and Sebastian were handling her. I couldn’t face that betrayal yet. Not until I knew Gwen and Easton were fine.
“Is Kylo almost here with his family?” I asked when Jason checked a notification on his phone. He had his hand propped up on the window by my bed as he read a message.
“They just pulled up. Kylo needs to get his brother and parents help first, then he’ll stop in to see you.” He pushed off the window and turned toward me, a solemn look on his face.
“I’m so glad he got to his family in time. I can’t handle any more bad news.” I also refused to believe Easton and Gwen would die.
Carter had been the one to call Gwen’s father, Wyatt, as well as Easton’s brother-in-law, Constantine. Both men were already heading to their respective airports to fly here.
A soft knock pulled my attention to the doorway. Tristan stood there, cleaned up, but shadows still darkened his face. “Am I interrupting?”
I gripped Jason’s wrist, silently requesting he stay as my steady rock in the storm while I motioned to my brother to join us.
Julian slipped in behind Tristan, and then my father walked in as well.
The air thickened, tension crowding the small room.
My stomach knotted as my dad closed the door with deliberate finality, leaning his back against it. Tristan and Julian moved closer, one on either side of the bed.
“What is it?” I slid my hand from Jason’s wrist, lacing our fingers together.
I thought Tristan was pulling the syringe with my cure from his pocket; instead, he produced a ring.
He stepped forward and set it in my palm.
“This is what they had you take from our vault in Florence. I recovered it from Cassian after you left for the hospital. The Ring of Solomon. Most believe it’s a myth. ”
The gold was dulled with age, the signet etched with strange markings. Power hummed beneath its weight, like it was alive. “Wait, are you saying this actually belonged to the real Solomon?”
Dad stepped forward, his tone low and measured as he shared, “Whether or not that’s true, I don’t know, but my great-great-great-grandmother got hold of it, and it’s been with my bloodline ever since.
Whoever has it is considered the legitimate leader of our family.
” The words sank in like stones in water.
“I chose you to be the one to inherit it and all that comes with it.”
“That’s why I had the second code to the vault in Florence.” My fingers locked around Jason’s hand like a lifeline. “Cassian needed us gone so only Lyra would be left to take over.” I shoved the ring back into Tristan’s hand. “What if I don’t want this?”
Tristan passed the ring over to Dad, and he slid it on his finger.
“You will when you remember who you are,” my father said without meeting my eyes.
“Speaking of your memories,” Tristan started, “I have the antidote. Just gave Mum hers as well before heading in here.”
“Did they ask Mum who your dad is? Do you know the truth?” I couldn’t help but wonder.
Tristan glanced back at my dad, then over at Julian. “They did, which is why I couldn’t leave anyone alive out there.”
So you know who your dad is. Something told me he wasn’t going to do a name reveal anytime soon. Maybe never.
Tristan removed a small vial from his pocket and opened the cabinets, searching for a syringe.
“Did Kylo and Rowan overhear who your father is? Their parents?” Jason asked.
“No. They weren’t in the room with us when they drugged Mum.” Tristan filled the syringe with a clear substance.
I lifted my hand, a request to keep it away from me, when a memory surfaced like a knife cutting through fog. “You said something in the woods about forgetting the in-between . . . ?”
Tristan gave me a hesitant nod. “The by-product of the treatment is that you won’t recall anything from when you were drugged the first time up until now. You’ll lose the week. The last thing you’ll remember is being at the rave.”
My heart landed in my throat, and a wave of blistering chills cut across my skin.
Jason’s hand went slack in mine. He pulled away and turned toward the window, bracing his palm against the glass yet again, shoulders caving like the weight of the news had broken him.
Every moment we’d shared—our tangled, impossible week together—was about to be erased.
No, no, this isn’t fair. Panic spiked as my gaze ricocheted between my family. “Find another way. Don’t let me forget.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Tristan’s mouth tightened as if he didn’t want to say more before adding, “And it’s already been a week since you were given the first drug. I don’t think we should risk waiting any longer to give you the antidote.”
“Don’t give it to me,” I decided. “I’d rather keep this week than regain my other memories.”
Jason spun around, anguish warring in his expression. He snatched my hand, threading our fingers together. “Absolutely not. Don’t you dare choose me over your entire life.” His eyes, fierce and burning, pinned me hard. “I’ll never forgive myself if you do that.”
Everything inside me hurt as I stared back at him, unsure what to do or say. “After Gwen and Easton are out of surgery and okay, I’ll, um, give you all my answer then.” That was the best I could offer for now.
My dad surprised me by not arguing, and my family quietly filed out of my room.
Jason sat on the edge of the bed and held my hand.
“I won’t let you do this.” His chest rose with a heavy breath he kept caged for too long before letting it go.
“You’ve fallen for me, I know you have. And it can happen again.
” His mouth tugged into the faintest smile. “I’m being presumptuous, but—”
“I am falling,” I admitted, the words trembling out of me. “You brought me back to life, even without my memories. And I know this week did the same for you.”
He gathered me in his arms, pressing my cheek to his chest. His heartbeat thundered steady and strong beneath my ear, the only anchor in a world unraveling.
“I can’t forget,” I begged, clutching him, digging my nails into his back. “Please.”
A ragged breath tore from him. He held me tighter, hiding his face in my hair. “You will find your way back to me. You’re stronger than any drug.” His voice wavered as he rasped, “And you can be sure I’ll be a pain in your ass until you remember us.”