Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(133)

“I trust you.”

My eyes closed, just for a moment. But I felt a lifetime in that smattering of seconds. Images of Brae. The infinite incarnations of her face. Laughing. Determined. Angry. Joyful. Coming apart. Telling me she loved me.

My eyes opened as Travis’s taunts filled my ears, but I couldn’t hear them. All I could hear were Brae’s words. She might not have spoken them aloud, but my brain still formed the sounds. I trust you.

I fired.





57





BRAEDYN





I didn’t look away from Dex—not at the weapon in his hand but at those dark-hazel eyes. The ones that had given me a gift I wasn’t sure I’d ever find again. The gift of trusting.

Such peace came with that trust. I held tightly to that as the shot rang out.

It sounded different than before: louder, harsher. But I just gripped that peace and trust. And I didn’t lose Dex’s eyes.

The gun at my temple slipped, and someone fired a second shot. I couldn’t tell if it was Dex or Travis.

The hand in my hair loosened as Travis stumbled backward toward the river. I whirled, pain flaring along my side. But I ignored it. I needed to see.

Travis’s arms windmilled as blood bloomed on his shoulder, another patch on his chest. His eyes were wide, his face unnaturally pale, and then he fell. He hit the side of the embankment twice and then flew into the river. The rushing rapids grabbed his body, pulling it under, and then he was simply…gone.

Footsteps sounded behind me as Kol barked orders into his phone. And then he was there. Dex. His hands framed my face, rough against soft, steady pressure and peace.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay? Tell me.” The questions were a barrage of demands, but I answered him with only one thing.

My hands fisted in his tee as pain rocketed through my body, my heart breaking at knowing she was gone. My Nova was gone. But Dex was here. Holding on despite it all. Always my safest landing place. “I love you. I trust you.” I couldn’t hold back from telling him both, not when I knew we didn’t get infinite chances to tell the people we loved the most important things.

Dex’s hand slid down to the pulse point in my neck. “Tell me again.”

My eyes burned, filling with tears. “I love you.” And then the one last piece of myself I could finally give him. “I trust you.”

His lips brushed featherlight over mine. “You made me want to reach for things I never thought I could have. You gave me hope when I thought it was impossible to hold on. You gave me peace with my darkness.”

“Because that darkness is beautiful, too,” I whispered.

Dex’s eyes glistened, unshed tears gathering. “I love you. I trust you. And I want nothing but you and Owen for the rest of my days.”

A sharp bark.

Dex’s lips struggled into the barest of smiles, one he fought for amid all the pain circling us. “And Yeti.”

My sweet girl. I called Yeti over, but it was quickly followed by a wince.

“What’s wrong?” Dex clipped.

“My ribs,” I muttered. “I—” A wheeze left my lips.

Dex cursed, glancing at Kol, who was still on his phone. “We need an evac. Now.”





“There are two hairline fractures, here and here.” The doctor pointed them out on the X-ray.

Dex scowled at him as if he’d personally broken the ribs.

I squeezed his hand, bringing his focus back to me as I lay on the gurney in the ER bay. “I’m okay.”

But I wasn’t. I was so far from okay. Because all I could hear were Travis’s words echoing in my head. “Want to know where I buried her? Want to know how loud she screamed in the end? Begged for her life? How close you were to finding her? How recently she lost it all?”

Some part of me still held to the delusional hope that he was lying. That we’d find her somewhere in that cabin or on the property. Some part of me was still waiting.

At least we knew now that Aster was okay. She had a mean bump on her head and a concussion, but she would be all right.

Dr. Gomez turned around, sending me a kind smile that made lines appear in the tanned skin around his eyes. “You are going to be just fine. The MRI we ran shows no injury to any organs. You’ll be uncomfortable for a few weeks but should heal nicely.”

“Give her the pain meds,” Dex growled.

I squeezed his hand again. “We’ve been over this. Please and thank you and no scowling, glaring, or looking at someone like you’re going to remove their limbs from their body.”

I wanted to find the humor in Dex’s cantankerous attitude returning, but I couldn’t. Not today.

Dr. Gomez’s lips twitched. “I’m glad you have someone who obviously cares so much about you. I’m going to give you a first dose of pain meds through your IV, along with some anti-nausea medication as a precaution. You really do want to stay on top of the pain because it’s important that you continue to breathe deeply, even with it. If you don’t, you risk developing pneumonia.”

Dex’s spine snapped straight. “How do we prevent that? Is there a medication you need to give her? A position she needs to sit or sleep in? What about—?”

When I squeezed his hand a third time, it was hard enough for Dex to say, “Ow.”