Page 207 of Chaos

Sweating despite the winter chill, I drop an armful of charred wood so I can shrug off my overshirt.

Immediately, I regret it.

Because immediately, a decidedly unmanly shriek echoes across the yard.

“What in the fuck happened to your arm?”

Cursing beneath my breath, I turn to the man picking his way across the rubble littering the yard. In the light of day, I can barely stand to look at the carnage, so I keep my gaze on the sour expression twisting my brother’s face. “It’s a fashion statement.”

Scoffing, Jackson wraps his fingers around the crook of my elbow, lifting my arm to inspect the bandage wrapped aroundmy bicep and the sterile dressing spanning the curve of my shoulder. “No one told me you got hurt.”

I wriggle free of his grip, his distress turning my stomach. “I’m fine.”

“Lux.” Half-turning as he hollers, Jackson stabs an accusing finger at our sister. “Did you know she was hurt?”

“She said her hand was fine.”

Jackson whips around to face me again. “What happened to your hand?”

My seared palm stings as I curl it into a fist and hide it behind my back. “Nothing.”

He huffs. He rakes his hand through his hair before bracing them on his hips, jaw tight as he drops his chin. “Did you at least get that checked out?”

“I rubbed some dirt in it and called it a day.”

He briefly looks to the sky, pleading for strength. “Charlotte.”

“Yes,father. I did. Got a lollipop for being good and everything.”

Jackson snorts. “That’s the dentist, smart ass.”

I just shrug.

Rolling his eyes, Jackson palms the top of my head before dragging me to his side, careful not to touch my injured limb. I tense, my skin crawling as it barely tolerates the touch, but I let the half-hug happen. I figure that as much as I don’t need it, Jackson does—I hear it in a shaky inhale, and the way his voice catches when he asks, “You’re sure you’re okay?”

I’m not, but I nod anyway.

Jackson knows damn well I’m lying, but he lets me off.

“If you weren’t, if—” He swallows, his chin digging into the top of my head. “If something happened to you, it would wreck me. Us. You know that, yeah?”

Thick emotion loosens the rigid set of my spine.

“Yeah,” I ask more than I answer, and Jackson’s grip tightens.

“Lux would resurrect you just to kick your ass.”

That draws a wobbly laugh out of me.

“I would help.”

I snicker again, dropping my head to his shoulder as I weave an arm around his waist.

“Because I’d be really fucking pissed that you missed the birth of another one of my kids.”

It takes a second for his quiet proclamation to sink in.

When it does, I reel back, eyes wide and jaw slack. “Luna’s pregnant?”

---