Page 88 of Jump

“Maybe they just don’t know you very well.” She opens her mouth wide and yawns, so the sound holds her captive until the very end. When she’s done, tears leak from her eyes and dribble onto her temple. “You looked pretty happy hanging off a cliff this morning. Kinda like you enjoy floating in the air.”

Ironically, a smile slips across my lips and brings a small one to hers. “I use to jump out of planes for a living. I’ve done it a thousand times or more.”

“Out of a plane?” she repeats. “Like, literally?”

“Mmm.” Relaxing, I sit back in my chair and lift one leg to rest it on the other. “Perfectly good planes, too. I’d jump out of them and into the middle of a forest, hoping to put a fire out before it put me out.”

“Which means that pesky little cliff today was no biggie.” She smacks her lips and burrows into her mattress, allowing her eyes to close. “It would have been boring to you.”

“Well…” I’m grateful that, for the first time in hours, I can focus on something other than Ivy Patrick and her fast track to being memorialized on the wall, right beside Ainsley Cootes. “Never boring,” I admit. “But it felt kinda nice to be in the air again.” I nod toward her leg, though she wouldn’t know, since her eyes are closed. “How’d you do in surgery?”

She lifts her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “Dunno. Steel plates, I think. Some screws to keep me together.” Another yawn wracks her frame, but she peels one eye open and locks it on mine. “Never walking through airport security unscathed again.”

I brush a hand over my head as a soft snort works along my throat. “Regular airports are lame, anyway. They never let you jump out of their planes, even if you know how.”

“Those jerks,” she exhales. “If my doctor says it’s okay someday, can I jump out of a plane with you?”

“Sure.” No fucking chance. But by the time she’s up and walking again, it’s likely she’ll have long forgotten me. “Might even let you borrow a chute,” I tease. “Ya know, so you get the whole experience and don’t die at the end.”

Lazily, she snickers.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, the longer pulses indicating an incoming call instead of a text. But I leave it to ring out, and instead, pay attention to the young lady laid out in front of me.

She’s a woman… a damsel, even. But it doesn’t make me sick to be near her. She doesn’t make me obsess about her safety, or feel responsible for her future. Unlike some others I know.

Ivy will be our next Ainsley. Yet somehow, I’m the bad guy for trying to stop it?

I push the thought aside.

“How long till you’re out of here?” I ask Rory, as my phone finally goes still against my leg. “What’s the doctor saying?”

“He said to give him a hundred and fifty grand,” she mutters, “paid in cash and Bitcoin, and he’ll give me opioids to make this much more fun.” Sluggishly grinning, she pops one eye open and studies me. “Kidding. They said I’ll need physical therapy and a lot of time to heal. But I’m young and yada yada.” She pauses to yawn, the sound carrying across the room. “I’ll be back to normal eventually. Do you know what happened to the guy who hit me? Is he in trouble?”

“Yeah. He was charged with drunk driving and ‘causing harm’ or some shit. He was sat in front of a judge nearly an hour ago.”

Her brow shoots up. “Already? That was fast.”

“Small town,” I quip. “Low crime. Judge was probably playing golf when the driver wiped you out. But he got to the courthouse and let the dude go with a ten-thousand-dollar bond and an order to return for his trial.”

“Jesus.” She lies back and looks up at the ceiling so her lashes kiss the bottoms of her brows. “It all happened so fast. Was he even sober for his bond hearing? Is showing up under the influence even allowed?”

I shrug. She has a point, but I don’t run the courthouses around here, nor do I make the law. But whether the dude was sober or not, I know the cops will have their eyes on him today—and every other day they can.

“Do you have anyone I should call?” I straighten my leg and pat my denim-covered thigh above where my phone rests in my pocket. But I don’t take it out; I don’t dare look at Viv’s name on the screen and let her tempt me into going to her. Not yet. Not for as long as Ivy and Ainsley are on my mind.

Rory scoffs in the back of her throat. “Definitely not my ex.”

“Parents?” I ask. “Siblings?”

She firms her lips and shakes her head, still staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t have anyone.”

My eyes narrow to suspicious slits. “You said you were on your way home.”

I wait for her head to drop to the side and her eyes to come to mine. Then I press, “I pay attention to detail, Rory. Earlier, you said you were going home. Where’s home?”

She draws a deep breath until her chest grows, then exhales with a gentle sigh. “Copeland City. My mom is sick.” Nibbling on her bottom lip, she shrugs. “She’s dying, Lieutenant. But my dad’s a piece of shit who cheated on her for their entire marriage, and now she has cancer, and he’s split.”

Fuckin’ hell. Stick a fork in my heart. How could a guy be such a prick?

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