Page 34 of Property of Bob

Shay tugged me toward the elevators. “Let’s get back to the clubhouse.”

I glanced back once. Anchor had already turned toward Ash’s door. Cross was talking to Push while McKayla leaned against him.

I wondered how long they’d all been doing this.

Hospital.

Island.

Hospital.

Island.

Whatever had happened to Ashland hadn’t just happened to him. It had hit every one of them. That was obvious. And I had the feeling McKayla’s sister being here had done the same thing all over again.

The elevator doors opened, and I followed Shay inside.

Prime stepped in behind us. “You two are going to be a problem together, aren’t you?” he asked.

Shay and I looked at each other. “No,” we answered at the same time.

Prime sighed.

For some reason, that made me feel a little better.

By the time we got back to Skull Island, I needed to be alone.

Not wanted.

Needed.

The whole drive back, I’d sat in the back seat listening to Prime and Shay talk while my brain ran in circles.

Ash.

The wheelchair.

The wound across his throat.

The roughness in his voice.

The way he’d tried to push himself higher in the bed like he had something to prove to me and ended up hurting himself.

Because I knew you’d help.

I closed my eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

It was true. That was the problem.

I’d driven to Skull Island because I needed Ash. Bob. Whatever the hell I was supposed to call him now.

In my head, he was still Ashland Moore. The eighteen-year-old guy who had stepped into my bedroom when my father was out of control. The guy who had put himself between me and a raised hand without stopping to think about what might happen to him.

I’d carried that version of him around with me for twenty years.

I hadn’t been pining over Ashland Moore while I traveled around the country, waiting for the day we’d be reunited. But when things got bad enough that I couldn’t handle them anymore, I’d thought of him.

And today I’d found him in a hospital bed.