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Wouldn’t I do the same myself?
I push the thought from my head. She’s my stepdaughter. I’m responsible for her. That she’s now eighteen and fragile and beautiful shouldn’t make any difference.
Cade returns an hour later with a freshly caught rabbit, already skinned and gutted.
“I know she can’t eat right now,” he says, “but I thought I could make a broth for her for when she wakes. She’ll need to get her strength back. She’s already too thin.”
Laney is too thin. I can’t help my gaze drifting down her long, bare legs. She’s kicked off the blanket, and we’ve left it off, thinking it’s better that she’s cooler since she’s still running hot. She didn’t have much body fat on her before the plane crash, and now I can see her hipbones jutting out. I tear my gazeaway before it drifts to her panties and the area below the lacy material.
“Good idea,” I manage to say, my voice hoarse.
Darius has got a cloth and some cold water and is placing it on her forehead to try to keep her temperature down. It occurs to me that I’ve never seen either of them caring for another person—other than each other—before. While I’d never want Laney to be sick, there’s something comforting in how they’re acting. Maybe I can trust them more than I thought.
The hours pass, and Laney continues to sleep. When Darius isn’t wiping her forehead, her skin prickles with sweat and she moans and twists her head in her sleep. I tell myself that it’s good she’s resting, that’s how her body will heal itself, but I watch her anxiously. I resist the temptation to remove the covering I’ve put on her wound, wanting to check if there are any further signs of infection. If I lift the gauze, germs could get in, and then I’d have to change it again. We only have a limited number, and I can’t risk wasting any. Still, I watch her leg above and below the bandage, keeping an eye out for any change in color. If the red spreads, then I’ll know the infection is also spreading.
What we need is antibiotics, but there’s no chance of finding such a thing out here. All we can do is watch her and pray her body is strong enough to fight it.
Day turns to night, and we take it in turns to sit with her while the other two get some sleep. I’m not sure any of us can really switch off, though, and even when I try to get my head down, I’m unable to close my eyes for fear of waking to find Laney has taken a turn for the worse.
At some point, I give in to sleep. I’m unsure how long I doze, but when I wake, hazy daylight streams through the windows.
The others are awake, too.
Cade rubs his hand over his face. “Laney’s still not woken up.” His lips thin. “What if she dies?”
Darius spins to face him, his face contorted with rage. “Shut the fuck up, Cade.”
“I’m just say—”
Darius shoves him in the chest. “Don’t say it!”
“Stop it, both of you.”
I don’t want to get between them, but I will if I have to. It isn’t the first time they’ve fought. I guess it’s only natural, what with them being brothers. But when we’re in a small cabin with a sick girl, now isn’t the time. I also don’t want them to cause any damage to each other. A broken nose or cheekbone won’t be easy to fix out here.
I grab Cade’s shoulder and place my other hand against Darius’s chest. I’m well over six feet, and while not quite as big as Cade, I am around the same height and size and Darius, but I might as well not even be there.
“What the fuck, Dax?” Cade yells. “This isn’t my fault, you know. You might still blame me for you getting sick when we were kids, but you can’t blame me for Laney getting sick as well.”
“I don’t blame you. I just don’t want you to tempt fate. And I don’t blame you for what happened when we were kids. How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?”
Cade scowls, though Darius can’t see his expression. Darius knows his brother well enough to not have to see him.
“Since when have you started giving a fuck about women?” Darius throws at him. “You never have before.”
Cade stiffens. “I just don’t want us to have to deal with another body, that’s all.”
Darius scoffs. “Bullshit. I can sense how you are around Laney. You like her.”
“So what if I do? She’s my stepsister, isn’t she?”
“I think she’s far more than that.”
A weak, feminine voice comes from behind us. “Why are you fighting?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Laney
