Page 92 of The Eleventh Hour
Dane looks away. “My mother used to make it before…”
“Thank you,” I say, knowing that he literally just gave me a part of himself.
He clears his throat. “No problem. I’m sorry about what I said about your friend.”
“Gideon?”
Dane winces but nods.
“Why did you go so pale when he hit you?”
Dane looks away. “It's just something.” He holds his breath, and then expels it. “It just reminded me of someone. It was nothing.”
I watch him for a moment, but he lifts his gaze to mine and pins me with an expression that I can’t decipher. It’s painfully raw, and there’s something in it that I understand and recognise on an instinctual level. The thought crosses my mind that this here is a man who knows what it’s like to be alone in a crowd, who knows how to survive. This is a kindred soul.
And then it’s gone, and Rafe is bundling me up, shepherding me towards the bedroom.
“Get dressed.”
I frown and open my mouth, but he presses his finger against my lips. “Warm clothes, jacket. There should be stuff in the wardrobe. Dane went shopping. Find something you can cover your face with.”
“Rafe?” I growl.
“Please, just a few more moments.”
I go and open the wardrobe and find an entire collection in my size. I pull out a dark jumper and a jacket that drop to the back of my knees.
I emerge and look at the two of them. Dane is rushing around, collecting his belongings. As I approach, they turn and head for the door.
“What’s going on?”
“We need to get you home right now.”
I scowl. “What is going on, Rafael?” I snap loudly.
He winces but stops and turns to face me. “Someone told the press. They are camped out at the Harmon house right now. Your father called. He needs you to come home.”
I blanch, wobble, and then run for the door.
Jax
“Dad’s going to kill me,” I whisper as I stare at the news trucks camped outside the mansion. “This time, he’s going to actually kill me.”
“No, he won’t.”
“How do you know?” I ask Dane with a quick glare before ducking my head down to avoid the camera that swings at the car window.
“Because I won’t let him. It’s better if the truth is out, anyway.”
I groan from the floor behind the driver’s seat. “I’m going to be sick. He’s going to hate me. They all will. What was I thinking? I should never have come home. Stupid. Selfish. Reckless.”
We pull up as close as Dane can get to the stairs. Rafael climbs out and opens my door. He looks over the car and then nods.
“Run.”
I dash up to the front doors. Mason pulls it open and tugs me inside before I even get time to knock.
“Are you all right?” He grips my face in his hands. I pull away gently and cover his hands with mine. So awkward.