Page 73 of Extended Bridge

Tristan and Pierce never returned to the band meeting. Coop and Río ended up leaving around five, while Luke stuck around another half hour before almost crashing and Bennett forced him to go to bed. In his own room.

When the door closes behind him, Bennett notes, “Alone at last. But I’m more tired than Luke looked. Let’s go to bed and sleep, Sweetheart. Things will look better in the morning.”

I don’t remind him that it’s already morning. My chest swells with hope he’s right, but I doubt it.

Together, we walk into the bedroom, shedding our clothes along the way. I’m too tired to brush my teeth or take off any remaining makeup, and I just crash next to Bennett. With a kiss goodnight, I escape into anxiety dreams.

On a gasp, I jolt up in bed after bobbing and weaving away from a man with a machete. When the phantom attacker recedes, my gaze lands on a sleeping Bennett. He looks much younger in repose. All the weight of his world is off his shoulders—and apparently transferred to mine.

The bedside clock says it’s now ten, meaning I’ve gotten a littlemore than four hours of sleep. But I know my body. Once awake, I’ll never get back to sleep.

I slip out of bed, careful not to wake the hot rock star. Making a trip to the bathroom, I put on my leggings and another tunic, and escape to the kitchen to heat water for tea. It’s time to calm down and face reality.

On the sofa, I call Ma. It rings straight through. Where the heck can she be at this time of the morning? Well, I guess it is almost midday. I leave her a message and call Court.

She doesn’t say hello or anything, simply dives in with “How are you holding up?”

“Better than I thought possible,” I reply. “Bennett’s been wonderful, as has the band. Well, all except Pierce.”

“He’s still not your biggest cheerleader, huh?”

“Not by a long shot. The guys are going to make a statement at tonight’s concert about Lissa and all the media surrounding my return. It’ll mainly be accurate, with a couple of omissions to protect Bennett and me.” I dunk my tea bag. “Well, Pierce is the wildcard.”

“That’s all you can hope for, right?”

“Yeah. If Pierce doesn’t join in, it’ll fall flat. I can’t imagine he’ll say anything to support me.” I sigh. “He still blames me for what happened to Darren.”

“That’s bullshit.”

I love how she always defends me. Needing to get out of my own head, I say, “Okay, enough about me. What’s going on with you?”

She fills me in about her love life, which is as full as always. Court’s never lacked for male attention, lucky her. But she’s also never had anyone special. “Then there’s the clinic.”

Her change of subject seems ominous. “What’s happening?”

“Well, aside from the media circus surrounding you running off with a rock star.” Her laugh sounds forced. “Things were dying down lately. No more reporters were camping out, since they’ve all come to realize you’re with UC. Most of the patients rescheduled their appointments, and the pace of new ones was returning to normal.However, we have had a couple of incidents.” She takes a breath. “Nothing major at all. I’ve been able to handle everything.”

“Incidents?” I repeat the word that’s been rattling around my brain since she dropped it. “What’s going on?”

“First of all, I’ve asked Felipe, and he said nothing’s happening at his clinic, so they’re centered around this one.”

Abandoning my teacup, I yank on my ponytail. I repeat, “What’s going on?”

“There have been some threats.”

Threats? “To the clinic?”

“Yes. Someone’s been leaving messages on our machine that we shouldn’t be able to keep our license since the owner is off gallivanting with a rock band. However, it was the graffiti on the clinic wall that raised more alarms.”

“Graffiti?” The timbre of my voice raises on each syllable. I glance toward the bedroom and lower it. “Was anyone hurt?”

“This is why I love you, Jenna. You don’t care about your physical property, only about your patients and employees.”

“Court, skip the niceties. Is everyone all right?”

“Yes. Whoever it was did it after hours, so there was only property damage. I didn’t bother with insurance, so as soon as the police give their go-ahead, I’ll have the wall repainted.”

My eyes close, absorbing everything. “Thanks. This is how I know you’re the absolute best person to be in charge.” I squeeze the teabag and, needing to get out some of this nervous energy, I walk across the room and throw it away. “Tell me about the graffiti.”

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