The night comes and goes, but Micah doesn’t come back. How long does open-heart surgery take, anyway? I do a quick Google search—three to four hours. That’s a long time to have your body cracked open and gaping.
A shiver runs down my back. I’d be a mess if Mom or Dad were going through something like that. I can’t imagine what Micah’s feeling right now, even if Jax’s uncle isn’t a blood relative. Maybe I should have gone with him for support.
At lunch, while the rest of the Stags chatter like normal, I keep my eyes on Kate. She pushes the noodles and veggies around her plate before dumping it in the trash.
Leaning close to Nianna’s ear, I ask, “Is Kate okay? She barely ate anything.”
“She gets that way sometimes.”
“We should say something.”
Nianna gestures toward the bathroom. “Be my guest, but we’ve tried tons of times.” She shakes her head. “I know you love her. We all do. So we just have to make sure she knows that.”
“You’re right,” I reply, still not convinced. “I guess that’s all we can do.”
I go back to my room and lie down dejectedly on the bed. I didn’t think I’d get so attached to the Stags. I’ve always known I’d be in the Wars for a year, but I imagined being in a larger group, not this small family. I feel for them. For Kate, who smiles to my face, but I’ve heard her crying in the shower. I feel for Mako, having to watch her internal struggles swirl ever faster. I wonder what that kind of love feels like.
I feel bad for sharp-eyed Nianna and her steadfast loyalty.
And for gentle Micah, who’s seen it all and chooses to stay.
The afternoon passes, the world outside still. It drizzles at one point, before the fog descends and everything is gray. I spend the evening reading downstairs—some fantasy book I found in one of the boxes. It’s just getting to an interesting part when the upstairs door opens.
Jax stomps down the stairs, a red cup in his hand. “Micah won’t fucking pick up.”
“Did you text him?”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t you track him?”
“No signal. He must have turned off the phone.” Jax exhales, making a frustrated sound.
I shiver. “Maybe there’s no service at the hospital?”
“Maybe,” he replies, not believing it. “It’s always the nicest places with the shittiest reception.”
“It’s Micah,” I say. “If he could text, he would, right? I bet you’ll get like six in a row once he has service again.”
Jax nods. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just nervous.”
Me, too. But I keep it to myself. It was me who told Micah to go, after all. I look around the room, eyes settling on the pool table. “Let’s play pool. C’mon.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I still haven’t played.”
Jax doesn’t look enthused, but he gets a cue from the wall. We break. I’m stripes, he’s solids. He’s a better player by far, but I manage to hit a few balls into the correct pockets.
Jax stays quiet as we play. Each time our eyes meet, he immediately looks away. I fuck up my shot completely and swear under my breath. “Sorry. Not very good at this.”
“You’re good at other things,” he replies.
I exhale a half laugh, knowing my cheeks must be totally red by now. When I look up, he’s watching me, body tense. I think back to the fire in my chest when we kissed at the bridge, and I think he’s thinking about it, too. My limbs are light with anticipation as he slowly sets down his cue and comes around the side of the table toward me.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he whispers.
Steady, Val.
“I know.”
My heart beats so hard that I can see the blood pulse underneath my skin. I am not Valerie Simons. I am Valentine. Valentine the Stag, the godless heathen.
Jax lifts me onto the soft felt of the table. The fluorescent lights buzz over our heads as he reaches around and pulls my hips forward until I’m leaning backward, my legs dangling over the edge. He snakes a hand up between my legs, pressing right where he should, and I don’t resist.
Our lips meet—he tastes like power and danger and cigarettes. We’re back by the bridge, back to feeling blizzardy. I want him. I’m scared, but I want him, have wanted him for a long time, and not solely for an ulterior motive.
Jax carries me to the bed, then lays me down gently.
I clear my mind as best as I am able, and fall freely into his touch. I let go of the soot, the grime, the fear.
The rest is just a bonus.