Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Monty’s nod is heavy, burdened with a sorrow so shocking that it suffocates the room, wrapping us in a chilling fog. Why does he look so devastated?
“When? How?” He reaches for her hand.
She yanks it away before he makes contact and scans the crowded room. She can’t discuss Denver or her captivity now.
Pain flashes across Monty’s face. “We’ll talk about that, too.”
A private moment stretches between them, their connection a delicate thread fraying under their shared grief.
They created a baby together.
But Leo and I were there when she lost that baby and stood witness to her anguish in the aftermath. Hearing her speak of it now, seeing the memory resurface in her beautiful green eyes—it’s a different kind of knowing. It’s my pain now, and Leo’s, irrevocably imprinted on our shared existence.
I want to reach out, to bridge the gap of cold, sterile air between us with a touch, a word, anything to ease her sorrow. But I’m frozen, caught in the burning glare of Leo’s eyes, conscious of his need to comfort her, too. It’s a visceral, wrenching thing, this impulse we have to protect her from the harshness of the world.
Monty’s face contorts with guilt and empathy, his eyes glossed with unshed tears.
For a fleeting moment, I feel for the man. He’s about to find out that he didn’t lose just one child.
He lost two.
I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, aching for Wolf, for Frankie, for us.
A hush closes in, alloyed with the inadequacy of words. No platitudes can mend the chasm opened by loss. No assurances can bring back what was.
If Monty’s assistance helps her heal and move forward, I’ll swallow my pride and unease, one step, one breath, one heartbeat at a time.
“I met all your conditions but one.” He waits until the nurse closest to us moves to the other side of the room. Then he whispers adamantly, “No cops. No detectives. They are required to report everything. If…” He searches her eyes, his voice barely audible. “If laws were broken, we need to tread carefully.”
My mind reels. He doesn’t know she killed Denver.
Obviously we escaped, so maybe he suspects it.
Or maybe he’s involved in his own criminal activity.
Without giving anything away, Frankie meets his stare. “I wanted someone present to keep the peace, but we can proceed without that.” Her gaze flicks to Leo and narrows. “No brawling. Not here. Not in public. Promise me.”
He grinds his jaw back and forth, relaxes it, and tips his head in agreement.
I sense his vulnerability in the gesture, a rare concession from the complex man who is my brother. He’s fiercely independent yet understanding of necessity, unbound by societal expectations yet willing to engage with them when it matters.
She turns to me with a different demand in her eyes.
No words needed. It’s my job to keep him on a leash and prevent him from biting anyone who comes too close.
Lucky me.
“When you were seeing to my demands…” She rubs her bandaged head and peers at Monty from beneath her lashes. “Did you learn anything about the plane crash?”
“I did.” He steps to the end of her bed and grips the footboard. “It was nothing short of miraculous how things unfolded. From what I’ve been told, your lives are owed to a combination of luck, quick reflexes, and crucial decision-making on behalf of the pilot.” He looks directly at Leo. “How did you learn how to fly?”
Leo meets his stare squarely, giving him nothing.
“Fine.” Monty’s sigh punctuates the air. “The press has a lot of theories on why you were flying in a deadly blizzard, but I can only think of one reason. You had no choice. You were starving, that much is obvious. But I know it’s far worse than that. I know you saw an opportunity to escape, and you took it.”
His gaze sweeps over us, sharp and probing, looking for confirmation.
We’re a fortress, our faces void of any sign that might betray our thoughts or feelings.
We can’t trust him.
His jaw flexes, and he clears his throat. “You crashed near a luxury hunting lodge. When the plane tore apart in the trees, the cockpit landed in a small lake on the property. The water cushioned the fall, saving your lives.” He pauses, glancing at Leo and me, letting that sink in. Or maybe to collect his thoughts before continuing. “Frankie.” He shifts his attention to where she lies, a softness creeping into his voice. “Your seat broke away from the rest of the plane. Somehow you stayed harnessed in it. That seat…it acted like a buffer, absorbing the brunt of the impact. It shielded your vital organs from severe damage.”
“Damn.” Her eyes connect with mine, and she shakes her head with a trembling smile. “How many times have you saved my life now?”
I strapped her in and triple-checked that harness but… “Leo was the one behind the controls. He wins this round.”