Page 34 of Faron
Cyclone’s phone buzzed. He stepped out, then back in, jaw tight.
“We found him. Caught on surveillance. Not local. Cartel. We’re pulling in everything we’ve got.”
River clapped a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll bring him in. You stay with her.”
I nodded, already rising to my feet.
I walked into recovery and found her there — pale, still, tubes in her arms. But breathing.
Alive.
I sat beside her, picked up her hand, and pressed it to my chest.
“You scared the hell out of me, Blue.”
I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
“You’re not allowed to be a martyr,” I whispered. “Not when I just realized I love you so much I never want to be away from you.”
33
Blue
Ifloated in a darkness that didn’t hurt. Not yet.
The pain came later—first a dull pressure behind my ribs, then an ache that rolled through my stomach like a slow wave. I heard voices. Muffled, far away. The beep of a machine. A faint shuffle of feet. It all felt like it belonged to someone else.
And then, a hand. Warm. Rough. Familiar.
Faron.
I knew it was him before I opened my eyes. His hand was wrapped around mine, anchoring me, tethering me to something real. I blinked slowly, the light filtering in from the blinds sharp against the haze in my brain. His head was bowed, jaw tight, as if he was praying or maybe just holding himself together.
“You look like hell,” I whispered.
His head jerked up. His eyes found mine instantly, wide and raw and too bright. I saw everything in that one look—fear, relief, and something deeper. Something that made my chest squeeze.
“Blue,” he breathed. “Jesus. Don’t do that again.”
I tried to smile. It lasted half a second. Then the memory slammed into me.
The man. The hoodie. The gun.
I gasped and flinched. My stomach seized with pain, and Faron reached for me.
“Hey. Easy. You’re safe.” His voice dropped low. “He’s gone. You’re okay.”
“Did they catch him?”
Faron’s expression darkened. “Cyclone and River are on him. They’ll find him. We have one of them.”
I nodded, the motion too much for my aching body. I closed my eyes.
“The kid,” I said. “The one who came in. Did he make it?”
Faron stared at me like I’d grown another head. “You almost died, and you’re asking about him?”
I blinked. “So he’s okay?”
