Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Aiden had dozed on and off, mostly lost to the fog of painkillers. Every time his breathing shifted, I woke, terrified he’d stop. I kept telling myself the sleep meant his body was healing. Still, my stomach hadn’t unclenched once.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, rubbing at the kink in my neck.
“You look worse than I do,” Aiden teased, his voice gravelly but lighter now.
I tried to smooth my hair, but judging from his half grin, it wasn’t much of an improvement. “I look fine.” I could probably use a shower and about twelve hours of real sleep.
We’d both been interviewed the night before by his team and Sheriff Franco…repeatedly. The nurse had brought dinner, though I barely remembered eating it. I hadn’t meant to stay the entire night, but the idea of walking away from Aiden, even for an hour, had felt wrong.
Aiden adjusted his pillow. “I would’ve hauled you up into this bed if I hadn’t passed out again,” he said. “Sorry about that.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
He shifted carefully, paling as he did so. “Fine. How about you?”
“I’m fine,” I said automatically, though my body ached from every muscle locking in one position all night. My phone buzzed on the side table. “Hi, Dad,” I answered, seeing his face on the screen.
“Hey, honey.” His deep voice rumbled through the speaker. “Just wanted to check on Aiden.”
I reached for Aiden’s hand. “He’s good. The doctor hasn’t been in this morning yet, but he’s got good color, and he said he’s not in pain.”
“Is he still seeing double?”
I glanced at Aiden, who gave a slow shake of his head. “No, not anymore.”
“Good,” Dad said. “Listen, I think you should probably take the silver nugget boxes and put them somewhere safe.”
I froze. “I should?”
“Well, yeah. You have them, don’t you?”
My chin hit my chest. “No, Dad, I don’t have them.”
Silence hummed on the other end.
“Dad?”
“Honey… they’re not in the trunk of the car. We were all pretty wiped last night. I went out to check before bed, and they were gone. Figured you’d already grabbed them.”
My stomach sank. “No.” My mind spun in several directions, landing on just one. “But I have a good idea who might have them.” I groaned. I shouldn’t have told Cormac where they were. What was I thinking?
Dad sighed heavily. “You sure it’s okay? I can call the sheriff.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. I’ll handle it and call Sheriff Franco myself. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“All right. Tell Aiden to buck up for me.”
I grinned. “I will.” I ended the call and dropped the phone into my lap.
Aiden rubbed at the faint bruise on his chin, the blue hospital gown just looking wrong on him. The IV line and sterile bedding didn’t fit him. He was a man built for movement, for control. Seeing him tethered to machines felt wrong, kind of like finding a wild animal trapped in too small a cage. “What was that about?” he asked.
“I found Nana’s missing nugget boxes,” I said quietly. “They were in the smaller tunnel beneath the depot.”
“I don’t remember any of it,” Aiden said, shaking his head slowly. “None of it.”
I rolled my neck, trying to get rid of the kink. “What’s your last memory?”
He frowned. “Getting ready for the parade. Your dad was sticking clovers on the float.” His voice was thoughtful, strained, as if searching through fog.
“You got a pretty good knock to the head. The doctor said the memories might not come back.” I tried to sound calm. “It’s okay. I filled you in.”
“You didn’t fill me in about the boxes,” he said dryly.
How could I forget? “Oh. Right.” I told him about finding them, tossing them into Dad’s trunk, and now discovering they’d vanished.
Aiden’s brow furrowed. “They’re gone?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “But I’m not too worried. Cormac Coretti was here last night, and I told him exactly where to find them.”
Aiden’s jaw tightened. “Cormac, again?”
I leaned in, my eyes widening. “Yes, and guess what? He used to work with Rory.”
Aiden raised his bed with the control button until he was sitting more upright. “He works for the Agency?”
“Used to,” I said. “According to Rory. But I don’t know what he’s doing now. I’m not sure I trust him.”
“Good,” Aiden said. “I’m not trusting him either, but I haven’t had a chance to investigate him fully. Let the sheriff know about the boxes.”
That was the smartest move. “Of course,” I said quickly. “I will.” Still, something about Cormac lingered in my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t the enemy. Maybe it was the way his eyes held humor, or how he’d looked at Donna like she was the only person in the storm. He didn’t strike me as a thief.
The door creaked open and Saber stepped in, his dark eyes cutting from Aiden to me. “We need to talk.”