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Jack of Blades

Page 92

by Ava Gray

Recovery is slow. Having an organ cut out of me is unlike anything I've experienced before, and given my rather unwise stint of dragging myself out of bed and down three flights of stairs, the incision in my abdomen is a little stubborn to heal.

It's also the best I've been taken care of in my life.

The doctors working for the Suit are incredibly attentive and kind, always ensuring I'm free from the slightest twinge of pain and talking me through any questions that arise, including the late-night worries that my organs will fall into the hole left by my kidney and get tangled.

It's worth it, though. Illyana's health improves with leaps and bounds and the next few weeks pass rather quickly. Before long, Illyana's up and walking around and Cassian's able to walk the length of the hall without being breathless. Having all three of us laid up makes recovery feel less lonely, and a competition quickly forms between Cassian and Illyana about who can get through physio with the highest score.

Watching them bond might be the best thing I've ever seen.

The rest of the Suit work hard to keep the world private for us and they only drop by to check how we're doing, bring presents and food, and make jokes about Cassian's inability to avoid a leg injury.

But the bubble of bliss doesn't last forever.

Eventually, reality returns. Thankfully, it hits not long after I've been given the all-clear by the doctor, and Cassian's back in the gym scraping back the minute muscle mass loss from being bedridden for two weeks and slowed in recovery for another one.

"Mom?" Illyana's voice drifts over the counter toward me, and my heart squeezes. Three weeks and I'm still not used to hearing that.

"Mmhmm?" I abandon the magazine I was reading and focus on the bowl of batter in Illyana's arms.

"Does this look right to you?" She sweeps a spatula along the edge of the bowl to gather some of the mixture, then holds it up. Brownie batter drips from the end in slow, thick clumps. Ever since she learned I was a chef, she's been determined to learn things from me, and it warms me in ways I didn't know were possible.

"How gooey do you want your brownies to be?"

"Super gooey." Illyana grins.

"Then that's perfect."

"Yes!" Reveling in her pride, she moves away and begins spooning the batter into a baking tray while I catch a glimpse of Cassian in the kitchen doorway. He watches Illyana with warm affection in his eyes, then he looks at me and tilts his head.

He wants to talk.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart. Remember to smooth the top before you put it in the oven. The temperature should already be right."

"Okay!" Illyana doesn't even look up as I slide off my stool. Instead, she hums to herself and wiggles from side to side as she fills the baking pan with batter.

Giving her one last look, I slip from the kitchen and find Cassian in the hall. He immediately takes my hand without a word and leads me down the hall to the bay window at the end, then he turns to face me with a tight smile.

"What's wrong?" His brows are pinched and that smile, as much as I love it, isn't his usual smile. My thumb skims over his knuckles as I talk. "You can tell me."

"I just had a meeting with Bradley."

My stomach tightens into a solid knot. "Is everything okay?"

He nods. "Yes, for the most part. The gala itself was… explosive, as you can imagine. We had a lot of allies in the crowd who had our back when it really came to it, but the ripple effects are far. The deal between Boris and the family he was marrying his daughter into has fallen apart. She's left the country and Boris is set to be executed alongside Leo for his crimes against you and us. Bradley's been working with a few other families already in deals with Leo to settle where the new drug will end up. I just…"

Not once does he look away from me, gazing into my eyes with such adoration.

"I wanted to let you know that it's over. They'll be dead soon and they will never hurt you again."

Dead.

I'd never considered what the end would feel like.

They've haunted my life for eleven years, and now, suddenly, it's over. My gaze drops, and I stare at the soft dip of Cassian's collarbone, then I glance back up.

"How soon?"

"A couple of hours."