“Why don’t I mind hearing that from you?” she asked, then pulled him in for a kiss before he could do so first.
Chapter Twenty-two
A week passed. A week of Avery sleeping for most of the time, thanks to pain pills and Drea’s insistence that she listen to her body, because sleep equaled healing.
The antibiotics that were preventing infection were also not helping in the staying-awake department. She was aware that Gunner rarely left her side, only conceding when Drea and Grace came to check on her. They’d bathe her and change her bandages . . . didn’t make her feel helpless, which she appreciated, even though she was helpless, and more than a little high from the meds.
“Gunner’s mad I won’t let him do this,” she remembered saying.
“Honey, he understands,” Grace reassured her.
“Things are healing well,” Drea told her another time when Avery complained she was itchy.
Now she realized she was wide awake and staring at the ceiling. This was good that she wasn’t in a fog any longer, but she was still tired. And every time she closed her eyes, she saw Landon’s face. Heard his voice. It made her body throb more.
She glanced over at the night table, where Drea had left her pain pills. She’d started reducing them, with Drea’s help, and the two she’d taken earlier that afternoon had obviously worn off. Although she wanted to do it without their help, there was no way.
“No reason to suffer, baby. Take the goddamned pills.” Gunner’s voice, low and rough, still made her tingle, even now. She took that as a good sign.
“Here, let me.” The bed dipped and he came around to her side, fixed the pillows so she was more upright, which actually made the pain lessen. Then he handed her water and pills and watched her take them. “You hungry yet?”
“Not really.”
He produced some crackers that he must’ve brought in with him earlier. “Have a couple—can’t take too much of that shit on an empty stomach.”
“Thanks.” She nibbled on one as he got back into bed next to her. The glow from the TV was enough light, the house was alarmed and no one was getting past Jem or Key or Dare—she knew they’d be taking shifts watching the house tonight.
And obviously, Gunner wasn’t planning on sleeping. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
When the words slipped out, they surprised her. She hadn’t been thinking about S8 or anything like that, just eating the cracker. The pills hadn’t even started taking effect yet, so she couldn’t blame them. And even though what she said could’ve been construed as anything, Gunner knew exactly what she was talking about—she saw it in his eyes.
“Forget it. I don’t mean that,” she said quickly, but Gunner’s gaze held hers, his blue eyes locked on to hers.
“I’m not forgetting anything, Avery. You have every right to say that, to feel that way.”
“I might feel differently tomorrow.”
“No one said you’re not allowed to change your mind.” His voice was gentle, but his eyes held an anger she knew wasn’t directed at her. And he didn’t seem surprised by what she was saying. “We’re all in this together, just like you said.”
“Just because I said it.”
“You know that’s not true—not with this group.”
The pain pills were working, the empty stomach aiding that along. But she continued eating the crackers, mainly because her stomach was growling. “Is everyone okay?”
“Worried about you, but they’re all fine. No signs of anyone or anything suspicious. We’re in a good place. Everyone wants you to take your time and heal.”
She wanted that too, thought she’d want revenge so badly that it would heat through her like a white-hot fury, forcing her out of bed and into planning mode. By now she should’ve been insisting that they find Landon, stop him from ever hurting anyone again, the way she had that first night.
Instead, she was thinking about giving up S8. The fact that she could think about letting Landon take something else from her pissed her off.
“I have to tell you something, Gunner,” she started, and she looked wary.
“I’m listening.”
“When Landon was attacking me . . . he showed me a folder. He whispered, so you wouldn’t hear. The folder showed a list of times and coordinates that a cargo ship with underage women was leaving Mexico for . . . shit, I don’t know where. Or when. He said it was soon and I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t see . . .”
He pulled her close, hugged her to his chest as quiet sobs racked her. Gunner hated that Landon tried the same psychological bullshit that he’d used so effectively on him.
He hated that it had worked.
“I should’ve told you earlier,” she murmured when her breathing had calmed down, but she still wasn’t looking at him.
“There’s nothing we could’ve done without more information. And you don’t even know what he was showing you.”
“It was a cargo dispatch. I know what they look like.”
He tugged gently, forced her to look at him. “You’ve let Landon wrap you up in this. You’re not responsible for what the traffickers are doing.”
She shrugged, moved back to the pillow. He ran a hand through his hair. “I know you’re worried about me. But we have to stop keeping secrets. I started that, I realize, but I thought we agreed, secrets will kill us.”
She curled up around the pillow, looking so pretty and so vulnerable. He knew that was all a smokescreen, that underneath it all, Avery had more strength than any of them. She had more of Darius in her than anyone realized, and that in and of itself could be very good . . . and also, very destructive.
Right now he felt like that sense of justice was killing her. “I understand what you’re doing, Avery. I did it myself.”
“When you were with Josie,” she murmured. “That’s why you wanted to go back to Landon.”
Why he’d been pissed that Josie saved him.
