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EVANGELINE
Bane eases the car to the side of the road, pulling over on the small gravel shoulder. “What guy are you talking about?”
Confusion wrinkles my brow, and I look from the car to Bane. “What? Why are you stopping?”
“It’s alright, Evangeline. It’s just Nova and Silas behind us. But this conversation isn’t done, yeah? We’re going to have some serious words about everything that happened.”
I nod because I have my own questions that need answers. Some long overdue ones too. But I don’t have time to say anything more because the passenger door is yanked open in the next instant.
I spin around, the muffin falling from my lap to land on the floorboard. Nova St. James stands in the space between the open door and the car, lips parted and eyes wide. His hair looks wild, like he’s had his hands raking through it for days, and his usual charming smile is absent.
His hands rest on the top of the car, gripping the frame like he might fall over if he lets go.
“Evangeline,” he breathes, voice shaky with emotion. There’s a breathlessness to him that I haven’t seen before.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and twist to face him, but he sinks to his knees on the gravel shoudler before I can stand up. He rests his forearms against the seat, caging my hips in, and rests his forehead against the top of my thighs. A squeak of surprise slips out of me, but I swallow any words I was going to say when I feel his breath warming my skin in small puffs.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, rolling his forehead back and forth once. He lets out a deep sigh, like he hasn’t taken a full breath in days, and something inside of my chest cracks open.
I thought I’d cried all my tears up, but it seems I’m not quite done. I curl over him, my vision going watery. I trace the hard muscles of his back as I try to press myself closer to him and offer whatever comfort I can. Nova shudders against me, his hands trembling where they grip the sides of my hips. His shoulders rise and fall with uneven breaths, each one a ragged hitch that tugs at something deep within me.
“Nova,” I whisper, running my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart. You scared the shit out of me,” he says, his voice muffled.
I cringe, acutely remembering just how many days it’s been since I showered, how long I’ve been wearing this outfit, and how many events I’ve gone through in it. A shootout, a secret tunnel, a drugging, a car crash, a muddy field, a stolen car.
Exhaustion tugs at my limbs, a special blend of physical and emotional, and it takes effort to hold strong for him.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “But I’m okay. I’m alright.” It feels like some kind of role reversal. Not even an hour ago, Bane was comforting me like this. And now I’m doing the same to Nova. I glance to my right, where Nova came from, and wonder if Silas is here too. Or is he with Hunter somewhere?
I worry my bottom lip with my teeth and wonder how that conversation with him will go. Will we comfort each other, or will he ice me out again?
Nova grunts and scoots closer to me still.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, running my palm in a wide circle over his back.
He lifts his head, giving me an incredulous look with wide, red-rimmed eyes. “Am I okay? Baby, you’ve been gone for three days. Three of the most miserable days in my whole fucking life. And I mean this with all the respect in my body, but you are never allowed to leave me again, yeah? I don’t fucking care if you want to travel to Alaska and live in one of those snow hut things we saw on that documentary.”
A laugh bubbles out of me without hesitation. “But you hate the cold.”
“Aye,” he says with a slow nod. His face is devoid of any of his usual humor or charm. “I go where you go, yeah?”
I run my fingers through his hair, watching his eyelids sink lower with pleasure. I half expect him to start purring like some kind of domesticated jungle cat. “I hear you. Did you and Bane coordinate your speeches or something? I’m getting a lot of grand gestures lately. Not that I'm complaining.” The smile escapes me as a soft exhale, a gentle burst of happiness.
Nova hums under his breath, letting his eyes close fully. “Nah, Bane’s just trying to hitch his wagon to my train.”
My smile grows wider at his mismatched idiom.
“I think you have that backwards, man,” Bane says with humor in his voice.
“You’re trying to hitch your train to my wagon?” Nova asks, arching a brow. He flashes me a wink, the side of his mouth curling into a smirk. Trust Nova to break his emotional moment with some humor.
Bane huffs a laugh. “Where’s your brother?”
Nova’s smile falls a little. “In the car.”
My chest pinches with something dark, and I look back toward the car parked behind us. But the angle is all wrong, and even if it wasn’t, they have a special tint on all their SUVs.
