Chapter 27
Carla
The knock is light.
“Come in,” I call.
The door opens, and Flint fills the frame, broad-shouldered and slightly hesitant. He has a bunch of sunflowers in one hand, wrapped in brown paper, and a look on his face that is somewhere between hopeful and unsure.
“Oh, hi! This is a surprise. Come in,” I tell him.
He holds them out when he reaches me. “Probably not very original bringing flowers to a hospital room, but I brought them anyway,” he says.
“They’re beautiful.” I mean it. I take them, putting them on the table next to me. “I’m leaving soon, so I’ll leave them just like that and put them in some water when I get home. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“I have a confession to make,” he says, and the corner of his mouth pulls up a little. “I had advice on the flowers.”
“Did you?”
“Magma told me to bring them.”
I keep my face easy. I take a breath in through my nose, slow and small.
“Oh…um…” I frown. “That was kind of him,” I say. “So are they from him or from you?” My heart beats a little faster.
“He recommended I bring them, but they’re from me.” Flint smiles. “Magma seems to be under the impression that I need managing even when I’m not at work.” Flint pulls the chair up and sits. He’s smiling properly now. “Can’t decide if I’m flattered or insulted.”
“I’m sure he means well.” I smile back.
“Absolutely,” he agrees. “It would seem that Magma is matchmaking. He told me that I should ask you out for coffee.”
“Oh, did he now?” I try not to sound deflated.
“He did.”
“And? Are you going to ask me?”
He shrugs. “No.”
I smile. “Then why are you here with flowers?”
“Because I wanted to ask you to dinner instead.”
“Oh, I see.” I pause.
“And?”
“I might need to think about it.”
He laughs. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than I expected. A little stiff. My feet are improving already. The swelling has gone down. My worst cut didn’t even need stitches.” I glance down at the bandages. “Apparently I’m tougher than I look.”
“Magma mentioned that,” he says. “I watched you get taken. The moment I saw that Red lift you off the ground—” He exhales and stops. “I was injured. I couldn’t follow. I wish I could have done more.”
“Flint.” I wait until he looks up. “The only reason you got injured in the first place was so that you could distract that asshole so that I had a chance to get away. Then you organized the rescue party that found us.” I pause. “That counts for a lot.”
“I still wish I could have done more.” He says it quietly.
“You could not have done more,” I say. “You stayed conscious long enough to tell Magma what had happened, or he wouldn’t have known. There isn’t a single thing you could have done that you didn’t do, and I’m so grateful.”
He looks at me for a moment. “Thank you for saying that, Carla.” He gives me the smallest of smiles. “When do they let you out of here?”
“Soon. I hope within the next hour. Robyn is coming for me.”
“Good.” He nods. “That’s good. You should rest when you get home. Stay off those feet for a little longer.”
“I will.”
He gives me a skeptical look.
“I will stay home today, maybe tomorrow, and then I’m going back to work. I’ll go stir-crazy if I sit still for too long. The best thing for me is to get back to normal.” I pull the sheet a little higher. “Has there been any news on the other females? The ones who are still missing?”
His expression shifts to something heavier. “The search is ongoing, but there’s nothing yet.”
“I hope they’re okay.” The thought of those women on that island, in that jungle, makes me feel terrible.
I bite the inside of my lip.
“So do I,” Flint says.
We sit for a beat.
He is a good-looking man. I know this. I knew it the first night I saw him in the bar, and Robyn made me look. He has dark eyes and a strong jaw and the kind of build that would turn any head.
I’m not sure I feel anything for him anymore.
Maybe I’m just a little numb after what happened.
I think of Magma, of how he’s trying to get Flint and me together. Does he feel guilty?
“Dinner sounds nice, Flint,” I tell him.
He smiles. “You’re agreeing.”
I nod. “I am. I was thinking we could probably go this weekend?”
“How does Saturday sound?”
“Perfect.”
“If your feet are feeling a bit better, I could fetch you on my bike and take you for a spin.” He lifts his brows.
“Sounds fun.”
He straightens and rises from the chair, smoothing his hands down the front of his jeans.
“I’d better get going. I have to oversee Security Central until the boss is back.”
“When will Magma be back?”
“In a day or two. There’s no keeping that stubborn male down for long. We’ll be in touch before Saturday.” He turns toward the door.
“Flint,” I say. He stops and turns back. “Thank you. For coming. And for the flowers.”
He looks at me for a beat. His mouth moves at the corner. “Get better soon, Carla.”
Then the door closes behind him, and the room is quiet again.
Once I’ve had a few days to decompress, to sleep in my own bed and sit on my own sofa without anything trying to kill me, this heaviness that’s been sitting somewhere below my ribs will lift.
It will. I know myself well enough to know that.
I’ll remember what it was I liked about Flint.
I’ll remember being excited about our dinner and about him.
I’ll remember all the things that pulled me in his direction before everything changed.
I’m still the same woman I was a week ago.
It’s silly to think I could have changed so dramatically from being on Mistveil Island for a few days.