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“You’re welcome. I’m really glad it worked out so easily.”
“If those bruises on your arms are any indication, it wasn’t that easy.”
I glance down at my forearms, vaguely surprised at the darkening bruises there. I’ve barely felt them. “It was fine. Jackson did most of the heavy lifting.”
“I bet he did. I’m surprised he even let you go. He’s usually so protective of you.”
Something about the words makes me shift in my seat. I’m not even sure why. I give a little shrug. “I didn’t give him much choice. It’s not like he’s the boss of me, you know.”
“I know. He knows that too. But that doesn’t stop him from treating you like you’re precious.”
Now I’m very uncomfortable. Something deep in my core—below my belly—tightens achingly. “It’s not like that. He tries to protect all of us. That’s his job, and he takes it seriously. But we’re not friends or anything. He doesn’t even really like me.”
Molly starts to shake and wheeze, and for a moment I’m panicked, standing up to try to help her. Then I realize she’s actually laughing.
“Oh my god, Faith, you’re adorable,” she gasps at last.
“What are you talking about?” It’s nice to see Molly laugh. I haven’t seen it in a really long time. But I’m confused and strangely anxious, and I don’t feel like I have control over this conversation, which is something I never like.
She doesn’t really answer me. Just keeps giggling. “Jack doesn’t like you. Oh, Faith. Thank you again for the antibiotics.”
I leave shortly after that with no more clarity than I had when I arrived.
***
AFTER THE EVENING GATHERINGthat night, I follow Jackson outside. He’s going to do a check of the perimeter tonight because Miguel’s ankle is still bothering him.
Because of the weird conversation with Molly, I don’t much want to talk to him, but Jackson has seemed preoccupied since we came back. Like something is really bothering him.
And if there’s something wrong in our little world, then I need to know what it is.
“Hey,” I call before he gets more than a few strides down the driveway that leads to the gate.
He stops, turning around and waiting until I reach him. His eyes search my face in the light of the moon and stars.
“Is something wrong?” I ask him. “Something about Caden maybe?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“I don’t know. It just seems like you’re worried about something, and it started when Miguel told us about Caden. Do you think he didn’t do the right thing?”
“No, he did. He did the only thing he could.” He stares at an empty spot in the air just past my shoulder for a long moment. Then he finally says in a thick voice, “But I’m worried about him being out there. Caden. Being who he is. Knowing what he does about us.”
I suck in a breath as I follow his line of thinking. “You think he’ll cause trouble for us?”
“I don’t know. There’s a good chance he’s already dead. But he’s the slimy sort who can always manage to suck up to people enough to survive. What if he gets in with the wrong sort—a Wolf Pack or something—and they decide to make a play for our farm? The only reason we’ve lasted so long is that the most dangerous groups don’t know what we have here. What if they find out? What if Caden tells them?”
I cross my arms over my stomach and tighten them. “Shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. What should we do?”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head and looks away from me again. “I’m tempted to go out and find him and make sure he can’t talk.”
“Jackson!” I gasp.
“I know,” he mutters. “I know. But what the hell am I supposed to do? If it comes down to a choice between his life and keeping everything I have here safe, what do you think I’m going to choose?”
I swallow hard. “Y-yeah. I get that. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? I mean, how would you even find him?”
“I doubt I could. And like I said, he probably didn’t even make it an hour out there on his own. I just wish to God I’d never let that fucker through our gates in the first place.”
