Page 57 of Last Destination

Our resident convict raised an eyebrow and stood like a lumberjack in the doorway. “You are leaving?”

Sighing, I picked up my runny yogurt and shoved a spoonful into my mouth, the tangy-sweet mixture overwhelming my taste buds and hitting my brain with a jolt of dopamine.

From yogurt — really?

“We’re all going to leave at some point, Madman. But let’s talk about that when Marley gets up. Is she okay?”

His bushy eyebrows furrowed over piercing blue eyes, but he nodded. “She is sleeping. We will help her wash when she wakes up.”

Good. If resting her brain was what the doctor ordered, we’d give her as much rest as her body would take. Reaching into the fridge, I grabbed myself another yogurt and handed a second one to him.

“Here, have a yogurt. Get your strength back up. Someone got us a few steaks, and I’ll grill them for us later.”

“You do not strike me as a man who knows how to cook.” Madman took the yogurt from my outstretched hand and stared at it blankly. “I have not had yogurt in twenty years — perhaps longer.”

Huh. In my obsession with soap and hot water, I hadn’t considered what this must look like through Madman’s eyes. Twenty years in prison, a life of poverty before that. In our time in the jungle, he’d done nothing but protect us, even when returning hadn’t been in his best interest.

Maybe I could show my gratitude by being his guide for the week. He’d done the same for us. Hell, Marley had saved my life, and so had he. I was indebted.

“I don’t really know how to cook,” I admitted, heat flushing my cheeks as I considered all the domestic skills I was lacking. “I worked too much and ate a lot of takeout. But I’m great on the grill. I’ll teach you.”

How much could I teach him before I returned home? Where would Madman even go? How did Marley or Nikki fit into any of it? How did I fit into any of it?

I didn’t have any answers.

“Here, come with me. Let’s explore this place.” Second yogurt in hand, I beckoned him forward over my shoulder and shut off my thoughts before they threatened to drown me again.

My father wanted me back. I had a future to return to. There was life at the end of this trauma tunnel.

It had to be enough for now.

Three days later …

A cocoon of warmth enveloped me when I woke and my cheek pressed into the softest fabric to grace my skin in a lifetime. A thick, cloud-like blanket wrapped around me like a protective shell. I burrowed deeper into the cozy cave, convinced the luxurious comfort was a blissful dream when the brush of hot skin against my back froze me in place.

Rough hands slid up my body. Though not sexual, it was certainly intimate, pulling me from my nest and into their arms.

“Good morning, baby girl.” Nikki’s soft croon nuzzled the back of my ear, but the touch set every hair on my body on end.

I wrenched out of his hold and shot upright, scanning the room for answers. My muddled brain processed slowly.

I was in a bed, king-sized by the look of it, in a large, modern room. An entire wall of windows overlooked the ocean. A loose cotton T-shirt covered my chest. I was wearing men’s shorts, and my skin and hair felt clean, smelling of an odd combination of soft flowers and cupcakes.

I’d been in and out of consciousness for days. They’d fed me, given me my meds, and I even had glimpses of the three of them showering me at one point, delicately scrubbing me clean before tucking me back into bed.

My brain seemed finally back online, my sight clear and my thoughts coherent.

Ambrose’s warm brown eyes stared at me sleepily from my opposite side, his body sprawled around loose covers, his normally sleek black hair mussed and spread in every direction.

“Wha-what’s going on?” I stuttered, trying to make sense of the image.

Nikki’s long fingers gently clasped my wrist to pull me back toward him. “My sister rented us a villa. We’ve been here three days, baby girl. You’ve been recovering. How are you feeling?”

How was I feeling? A dull ache wrapped around the back of my head and my tongue felt like I had licked a packet of tissues. But for the first time in days, I felt the familiar numbness that came along with the drugs in my system. The chemical sense of calm had pervaded every blood cell and dampened my senses, eliminating the last, desperate hold I had on my sister.

“I’m … okay.” I pushed backward into the cluster of pillows at the headboard and wrapped my arms around my legs. “The last few days have been a bit of a blur. But I know what happened. It’s not … it wasn’t the first time.”

Ambrose placed a tentative hand on my ankle, gaze imploring. “What can we do for you?”