Page 65 of Hell In A Handbasket
“I mean… you do have that unfortunate bleeding disorder going on.”
“God.” I cough out a laugh and swallow the fresh breeze tickling my face. The air out here tastes so damn good. Itfeelsgood in my lungs. “Just my luck, huh? I kinda want to change the world, but only every other night, and if I bleed, I need a lot of Band-Aids.”
“I haven’t lost a single soldier yet.” She drags her knees up and lays her arms on the top. Then her cheek atop that. “I don’t know if Archer would feel better to know that, but it should be said: I haven’t lost a single soldier in all the time I’ve been doing this. Jay is the closet I’ve come, and I swear to god, I walked through fire to make it better.”
“Didn’t Troy get shot?”
“Not-so-friendly fire.” She giggles. “And Corey, too. Oh, and Riley. You haven’t met him yet. But they all lived. That’s all Archer has to know when he gets his panties in a twist.”
“We’re good to roll,” Ellie’s voice comes through the phone. “Soph. I got it.”
Humored, she picks up the phone, taps an icon on the screen, and murmurs, “We’re on our way.” Then she meets my eyes again and offers a hand, her pinky finger outstretched. “Don’t make me feel lame for this.”
“You wanna pinky promise something?” Nerves bounce through my belly and up through my stumbling heart. But I offer my pinky, too. It’s odd how I don’t consciously decide to. I’m not even sure I could, if my brain were involved. “What do you wanna promise?”
“That even when I do insensitive, unkind, possibly dishonorable things, there’s usually a good reason for it. And sometimes, that good reason is that I’m simply too stubborn and weird and awkward to pick up the phone and ask to hang out like a normal, non-emotionally-destroyed human being would.” She hooks her finger on mine and squeezes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you like I did. I was so focused on me and what I wanted—andnotappearing vulnerable while I was asking—that I used Aubree. I should have known better than to fuck with the people you’re driven to protect.”
“This was a good apology.” I squeeze her finger back and lean until our shoulders touch and our temples meet. It’s a hug, but the kind a couple of socially stunted weirdos can manage. “I forgive you. And next time you wanna hang out, you could probably just say so.”
“You’ll clear your schedule?”
“Unlikely,” I snicker. “I’m a busy woman, and I loathe social outings. But you could force me, without resorting to the Aubree thing.”
“Jericho.”
Curious, I pull back and frown. “What?”
“Jericho. It’s a codeword.” She pushes upwards, untangling her legs and slipping her phone into her back pocket. Then she grabs my hands and jerks me up, too. “It’s a super serious, super covert codeword we use only when we’re trying to convey something really important. In our case, if I say that word, it means I wanna see you, but I’m too weird to be vulnerable more than once in a decade. It means it matters.”
“Jericho.” I test the word on my tongue and start toward the edge of the roof. “Alright. When you say that word, I’ll know it matters.”
“Geez. You girls done yet?” Jess’s head pops up, her blinding smile and glowing blonde hair that appears brighter under the moonlight, and when I look over the edge of the roof and down, I find Jen and Aubree at the bottom of the three-person tower.
Christabelle is smart enough to give them room.
“Are we good now?” Jess extends her hand. “All is forgiven?”
“You weren’t supposed to be listening.” Soph sits at the edge of the roof and dangles her legs over the side. “That was rude.”
“Yeah, but I’m emotionally stunted, too. Oh, and,” she slings her eyes to me, “Jericho means something else entirely to Kane.” She pokes her tongue against the inside of her cheek, piggy snort giggles reverberating along her throat. “That mandemandspayment, and he keeps count. It’s a form of currency in my marriage.”
“Pleasant.” Soph swings her leg across and hooks it around Jess’s back. “Keep still.”
“That’s not gonna work.” I hold Jess’ shoulder to steady her. “That’s not how you?—”
“Too heavy!” Jen growls, limping and grunting, which brings the tower tilting dangerously to the side. “Jess! Shimmy down!”
“I can’t shimmy down! Soph is choking me.”
“I’ll choke you all the way to the grave!” Soph monkeys along Jess’s back. “Keep still, dummy.”
“You’re leaning too far to the side.” Christabelle claps a hand to her mouth. “Jen! You’re letting the team down.”
“So get in and help me, preggers!”
“Soph!” Jess chokes. “You’re killing me.”
“You’re falling!” Christabelle yells. “Is anyone listening to me?”
