39
My vision fades in and out, but I can hear them talking.
Murphy rambles and Cress is barking orders.
Atta girl. Where’s Birdie? I want to sit up but my entire body is on fire.
I need to know what’s going on. And then there’s nothing again.
Everything is gone. I can’t feel my body and the nausea that rolls up burns like acid every time I get a sense of reality.
I roll over—or at least I think I do—and the vomit churns out onto the floor.
“Fucking hell,” Jesse swears, stepping away from me.
“Is that normal?” he asks across the table, and as I roll back Cress comes into view.
Her curls are still pulled back in the ponytail, only there’s a bunch of sweaty rogue ones around her face.
Blood is smeared across her pale forehead — mine, no doubt.
I try to reach for her but my body feels like lead.
“Don’t.” She gets closer, pressing her lips to my face. “Just stay still.”
“My shoulder—” I hiss quietly. “It’s on fire.”
“I’m sorry,” she winces. “I only had a pair of pliers to get the bullet out. I dug around in your body pretty badly.” Her guilty whisper breaks my heart. “There’s some pretty horrible sutures in there. They aren’t really my specialty and my hands won’t stop shaking.” She just keeps talking.
“Baby,” I whisper, reaching out to find her again and she takes my hand, pressing it to her chest. “Breathe.” I wait, listening, and can feel her chest rise and fall in a gentle breath.
I blink, closing my eyes for a second.
Darkness engulfs everything with inky fog.
“You lost the only race that ever mattered, Riggs. This is your punishment.”
Dying. I’m dying. I can feel it in my lungs, every breath I take feels weaker.
“I should have never told him.”
“Told him what?” Cress’s voice breaks through the shadows.
“That I loved you,” I whisper, my throat dry. “He used it against me.”
“You have a fever. Bird’s on her way back. She’s bringing blood.” Cress runs her hand through my damp hair.
“No, Cress, listen,” I huff. “You gotta—” I cough again, my stomach curling in on itself as thunder booms. “Is that rain?” I whisper. The smell of it washes in and pushes around the copper tang in my nose.
Rain is never a good sign.
My brain is like a rubber band. It stretches, remembers everything—then snaps back, and every small, vicious memory is gone.
“Yeah,” she confirms. “What do I need to do?”
“Listen—” I hiss. “I know who’s doing this.”
“How? Did they tell you something?” she asks. I know she leans closer because I can feel her warm breath on my freezing skin. I shiver gently.
“Koa did.” I force my eyes open and her brown ones are staring back at me, more confused than ever. “This is my punishment. Money and power. He never planned on letting you go.”
“We were married, I would hope not,” she laughs gently. God I love that laugh. “Just sleep for a bit,” she tells me, and her whispers are like static in my ears.
“Cress. It’s K—.”
“You should really listen to him.”