Garnet (Gems of Wolfe Island)

And I understand.

She trusts me because if she doesn’t, her life is over. Trusting me may be a mistake, but if it’s not? I’m her best chance. If I don’t kill her, someone else will.

“We need to be quiet,” I tell her. “Later, you can tell me what happened to you, and I’ll try to help. Right now we need to be quiet.”

She nods. “I understand.”

“Good.”

She huddles into me, and I know why. She’s seeking shelter. Comfort.

And I’m all that there is. She’s chosen to place her trust in me without knowing anything about me. She knows only that I’m the man who slapped her to get her to be quiet.

I’m all she has.

And I vow, then and there, that she won’t regret placing her trust in me.

In the end, I couldn’t protect Amira. Her trust in me was misplaced.

I cannot fail Aspen the way I failed Amira. I just can’t.

I could strike Aspen. I could strike her to make her stop screaming. But I won’t. I’ll never harm a hair on her head. We’re not in danger here. The only danger is someone hearing her and calling the cops.

But she’s shrieking. Crying and shrieking, and it’s ripping my guts out.

So I do the only thing I can. I grab Aspen, pull her into me, crush her in a bear hug.

And I hope that the blanketing of my body will soothe her body and her mind.

22

ASPEN

Gloria Delgado is my roommate. She’s my backup on the team, and she’s good. Really good. To be honest? She’s as good or better than I am. I was chosen simply for my size—size is still a factor for middle blocker, even though experts say it shouldn’t be. I’m two inches taller than Gloria. Otherwise, we’re equal as far as learned skill, experience, and natural ability.

We get along well. I like Gloria, and if she’s jealous of my position, she’s never made it clear.

She’s in a relationship with another one of our teammates—Taylor Wallace. She and Taylor are out to dinner, and while the other girls invited me to an impromptu team dinner, I chose to stay in tonight.

I’m not feeling well. It started when I got off the plane at LaGuardia. I’ve been nauseated since, and although I know I need to eat, I figured room service would be a better option tonight, just in case I have to puke. If I’m nursing some kind of virus, I need to take care of myself—relax, get my immune system in gear—because I’m not going to miss the game tomorrow.

My phone buzzes.

It’s a text from Gloria.

Just checking in. Are you feeling any better?

I quickly text her back. Still feel pretty funky. I’m going to order some dinner in.

Okay. Let me know if you need anything.

I text her back thanks and a heart emoji.

I grab the room service menu, but before I can take a look, I’m in the bathroom puking my guts into the toilet.

Geez. What could I have eaten? All I had on the plane was some Coke, and of course the obligatory bag of pretzels. Damn. Must be a virus, in which case I need to get it all out of me before tomorrow’s game.

Once the heaves finally stop, I order a simple turkey sandwich from room service. White bread and turkey. That’s about all my stomach can handle.

I lie on my bed, and twenty minutes later, someone knocks on my door.

Ugh. It takes all my strength just to get off the bed to get my sandwich from room service.

I open the door and—

A moment later, I’m waking up in a concrete room.

On the table next to me is a plate covered in a silver dome.

I jerk upward. Right. I’m in the hotel…

Except I’m not in the hotel. My hotel room was not a concrete room with no windows.

But I remove the dome from the plate on my table.

A turkey sandwich. A plain turkey sandwich on white. No condiments.

It’s exactly what I ordered.

The screaming stops.

I’m enveloped in strength—as if a weighted blanket surrounds me.

Buck. Buck is holding me.

And I remember.

Damn it all to hell. I remember.

That screaming? It was coming from me. It was fueling this memory, and now that I have it?

I understand.

And I want to know more.

“Buck,” I murmur.

He doesn’t respond. He’s murmuring in my ear. “It’s okay, baby. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Buck.” This time louder.

His hold on me lessens but only slightly. “Aspen?”

“I’m okay now. I’m sorry.”

He loosens his grasp and pulls back slightly so that he meets my gaze. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me. You understand that? Never.”

“But the screaming…”

“Screaming is something you have to do. Sometimes it’s just going to happen. I get it.”

“I know you do. I’m sorry that you get it.”

“Hey, what did I just say? No more apologies. Not to me.”

“Okay.”

“I want you to relax,” he says. “Dinner will be here in a few more minutes. But you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.”