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She squeezes my fingers but says nothing. Again, it will take time. She probably trusts us more than most people right now—more than she would have if we had met under normal circumstances, like at a club or a coffee shop. The things we’ve been through in the short time we’ve known each other have forced us to act and react to situations with nothing but honesty. At the very least, she knows we won’t hurt her. And for now, that has to be enough.
“I have an idea, though I’m not sure I like it. It might be one of the few options we have right now.”
I look at Zig as he speaks, his tone sending up a warning that I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.
“Let’s just see how things play out first. We need to make finding food and water our priorities. After that, then—”
“Just spit it out, Zig. It’s not like you to beat around the bush.”
He looks from me to Salem and curses lightly. “It’s just an idea. We might come up with something more solid later, but I think, right now, it might be in our best interest to let the world think we’re dead. Honestly, if it weren’t for Salem, we would be.”
“You mean hide out here? For how long?” Salem asks, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
“I don’t know. The cartel hunting you is one thing, but the government coming after you too… That’s something else altogether. You’d spend the rest of your life on the run, always looking over your shoulder.” He shakes his head, and as much as I hate the idea, I agree with him. We are limited in our options right now.
“But you two have lives, a family. What if you went home, stashed me somewhere safe, and told everyone I died?”
“Maybe later down the line we could, but there are two flaws with that. One, if we reappear healthy and intact, they’ll figure out that you healed us. That will have consequences for all of us. You, because it’s proof you can, in fact, heal if they had nothing but hearsay before. And us, because we now know your secret and how valuable you are.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
Salem
Idon’t know what to say. I retreat into my little bubble and unpack some of the things from the bags while Oz and Zig are outside, covering the plane with vines and leaves to make us less visible to helicopters and planes. I shake my head at the irony. Most people in this situation would be praying for a rescue, but not us.
This whole thing is fucked up. But if I know one thing to be true, it’s that nothing is ever black and white. There is no such thing as good guys. Everyone has a price. I’m hoping that by spending time with Zig and Oz, they’ll get to know the person behind the gift and find it harder to sell me out.
I believe them when they say they want to protect me, and I’m sure they will, to an extent. But when their family is pulled in—their sister and niece—they’ll hand me over with nothing more than a pocketful of worries and a heart full of regret.
I return my focus to the task at hand, happy to find that one of the bags contains some women’s clothing. There are leggings, shorts, a hoodie, a few tank tops with built-in bras, and a couple of T-shirts. It’s not much, but it’s more than I had before. The other two packs, the ones I found in the overhead compartments, have men’s clothes in them—shorts, T-shirts, and tactical pants. They also have socks and boxers, so I can at least steal a few of those.
I look up when I hear the guys climbing back into the plane and offer them a smile. I’m guessing it looks as fake as it feels because Oz frowns at me.
“Everything okay?”
I sigh and nod. “Yeah, just adjusting. There are some clean clothes here that I found in the overhead compartments.”
“Ah, sweet. Our bug-out bags.” Oz bends down and picks up the bag closest to him, which is the one that contains the women’s clothing.
“Some of Luna’s things should fit you. She’s an itty-bitty thing like you.”
“Her attitude makes up for it,” Zig says wryly.
Oz snorts but doesn’t disagree. “I found a bunch of shit in the tail end too.” He pulls the packs he retrieved earlier and pours the contents onto the mattress. “Mostly toiletries. Some shit was missing, but we have the basics. Luckily, we keep the plane well stocked. We never know how long we might need to stay on board or what shape the people we are rescuing are in.”
He pulls out an unopened package of underwear. Women’s cotton briefs. I look at him with excitement in my eyes.
Oz chuckles. “I’ve clearly been getting it wrong all these years by sending women flowers and chocolate. All women seem to want clean underwear.”
“And pockets,” I tell him as I yank the package of underwear from Zig’s hands. “I can’t believe you have these. That’s so random….” My voice trails off when I realize the reasons they might need clean cotton underwear for rescue missions. My stomach plummets.
“I’ve found that most of the time, it’s the little things that make the biggest difference,” Zig says softly.
“You’re right.” I cuddle them to my chest and turn to look at Oz. “What else did you find?”
“Well, like I said, we have a bunch of toiletries, a few more pieces of clothing, some sheets, and—” A howl cuts him off, and my head whips around.
“What the hell was that?”
