Page 93 of Entangled

“That’s okay.” He flashes those dimples at me. “I got you.” Bringing his other hand up, he stabilizes the gun and gently pulls my fingers from it, sliding it from my grip. “I kept my promise, right?”

I jerk another nod as he pulls the gun from my view, tucking it away somewhere I can’t see.

“But next time, try to remember to take the safety off before you come to my rescue, yeah?”

His words hit me as the adrenaline fades fully from my veins and I collapse right there on the floor of the bar, sobs ripping from me at all of the horrible almosts of today.

Chapter 25

Present Day

I stare at Jace while he sleeps, feeling the waves slowly rock the boat back and forth while I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest as if it’s the single most comforting thing in the world. And right now, with the bruises still purpling his ribs from where the Morrisons took a bat to him… it is. Somehow, he’s still been sleeping like a rock these past few nights while I’ve been tossing and turning my way through nightmares. So I wake up and stare at him, just watching him breathe. Totally giving in to my inner creep in order to reassure myself that we’re both still here.

The BOLO his aunt put out for Kyle and Kurt can’t find them fast enough for me. Apparently, threatening people with bodily harm when you were fresh out of jail was a bit of a parole violation, go figure. And Jace… well, as soon as we were done with the police he drove us to his boat, took us out to sea, and we’ve been chasing the sun every day since. He still hasn’t said those three little words to me again but I know it’s not because he doesn’t feel them. It’s because he’s trying to give me the time I need without any kind of pressure.

Because that’s just who he is. Who we are together.

I watch his eyes dart back and forth under his lids, expression soft and open, completely at ease with his lips edging up a tiny bit at the corners. As if even in his dreams he’s playing at some mischievous game. And for a moment, I can’t help but compare him to what Coop used to look like in his sleep.

They were such a striking contrast, one the dark night and the other a brilliant sun. And yet… there were these moments, inexplicable little instances where something would hit me and make me feel like they were one and the same. A careless gesture or a playful phrase. The arching line of a cheekbone or that pull around the eyes. Some indefinable essence of them that would strike, and just for a second, it would feel like they were made up of the same matter.

It was a weird feeling, to say the least. Those little moments of déjà vu.

I drop my eyes back down to the bruises coloring his side and my stomach turns at the sight. The impressions of the bat are fully visible with the blanket lying low on his hips and the scar framed within their midst draws my gaze. I lift a finger to it, running it along the neat line with a featherlight touch, wondering if this scar too is from some horrible instance of violence like the other day. A deep yawn leaves him and draws my eyes up to see his fluttering open.

A soft smile fills his face when his sleepy eyes land on me and he reaches over to slide the ends of my hair between his fingers. “Hey, you.”

I try to twitch my lips up into a smile for him but only get about halfway there. “Hey.”

“How long you been up for?”

“Not long.”

His eyes search my face for a moment, brows dipping. “Liar.”

I shrug in response, knowing it’s going to take me a minute to get over how close we came to losing each other when I’m just starting to come to terms with how much he means to me.

Dropping my eyes back down to the scar on his side, I slide my finger over it again. “What happened here?”

“Hmm.” He reaches over and loops his hands around my waist, pulling me against him and sliding a leg between mine. “I got in a car accident last year on my way to NOLA for a buddy from the Navy’s bachelor party.”

I meet his eyes, stomach twisting up again at the thought. “Was it bad?”

He opens his mouth but hesitates and I can see that he doesn’t want to scare me any more after everything we just went through.

“It was bad?” I guess.

“Yeah.” He nods. “It was bad. An eighteen-wheeler T-boned me at an intersection. Broke my arm, fractured my skull and femur. I was in a coma for a couple days from the internal injuries and woke up with half of a brand-new liver.” He flashes those dimples and drops his lips to mine. “So I guess, in a way, I made out because I kinda got to start from scratch there, right?”

I narrow my eyes at him in warning. “Don’t try to make light of this. You only have half a liver?”

He tilts his eyes up in dramatic thought. “By now it’s probably regrown to about seventy percent of a liver so… basically a whole one.”

“Not. Funny.” I smack his arm with each word to drive home the point. “You drink too much for someone with only a partial liver!”

A soft laugh leaves him as he tightens his arms around me. “It was back to normal function about a month after my accident. I’m totally fine.”

Throwing him a dubious look, I bring my hand up and run a thumb over one of his dimples. “You need to take better care of yourself, Dawson.”

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