MARRY YOUR KILLER
Chapter Thirty-Four: The Healing
---
The days after the warehouse passed in a blur of white walls and beeping machines and faces that came and went like ghosts.
Jay's room was at the end of the hall. Ci N was two doors down. Freya was across from him. Lyra was at the far end, the one with the window that faced the garden. Care moved between them all, her arm bandaged, her hands steady, her voice low and calm. She hadn't slept in days. She wouldn't let anyone else take over.
Keifer was there every morning. He came before the sun rose, his hands empty, his face tired. He sat in the chair beside her bed. He held her hand. He didn't talk. He didn't need to.
Keiran came with him sometimes. He sat on the edge of her bed, his legs swinging, his voice low. He told her about the garden, about the flowers that were blooming, about the steps where Keifer sat every night. He didn't ask about the warehouse. He didn't ask about the blood. He just sat there, small and warm, his hand in hers.
Keigan came once. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his face cold. He looked at her for a long moment. Then he walked to the bed. He took her hand. His fingers were cold.
"You saved my brother," Keigan said. "You saved my brothers."
Jay looked at him. Seventeen years old. Already a killer. Already a weapon. Already the man their father had trained him to be.
"I saved myself," she said.
His face didn't change. But his hand tightened on hers.
"Thank you," he said.
He walked out. He didn't look back.
---
Ci N was the first to leave the hospital.
He came to her room the morning they released him, his shirt too big, his face still pale, his eyes bright. Felix was beside him, his hand on Ci N's arm, his face steady.
"I'm getting out," Ci N said. "I'm going home."
Jay sat up. Her side screamed. She didn't let it show.
"You should rest," she said.
"I've been resting for a week. I'm tired of resting."
He walked to her bed. He sat beside her. He took her hand.
"You're still here," he said.
"I'm still here."
He looked at her. His face was young. Too young. His eyes were old.
"You almost died," he said.
"So did you."
He leaned against her. His head on her shoulder. He was so small. He always would be.
"We're idiots," he said.
She almost smiled. "We're idiots."
He pulled back. He looked at her face. At the bruises that were fading. At the scar on her lip.
"You're not going to do that again," he said.
It wasn't a question.
She looked at her hand. The ring was there. Gold. Thin. A circle that meant something now.
"I'm not going to do that again," she said.
He hugged her. His arms were small. His hands were tight.
"Good," he said.
---
Freya was released the next day.
She walked into Jay's room without knocking, her arm in a sling, her face sharp, her eyes clear. Rakki was behind her, her hands in her pockets, her face calm.
"You're still here," Freya said.
"I'm still here."
Freya sat on the edge of the bed. She looked at the bandages, the bruises, the IV that was still in Jay's arm.
"You look terrible," Freya said.
Jay almost smiled. "So do you."
Freya reached out. Her hand was steady. Her fingers were warm.
"You saved my life," Freya said. "At the warehouse. You came back for me."
Jay took her hand. "You came back for me first."
Freya looked at her for a long moment. Then she pulled her close. Her arm was strong. Her grip was tight.
"We're even," Freya said.
Jay held her. "We're even."
---
Lyra was the last to leave.
Her side had been bad. The knife had gone deep. The doctors said she was lucky. She said she wasn't lucky. She was fast.
Alex was with her every day. He sat in the chair beside her bed. He held her hand. He talked to her when she was awake. He talked to her when she was asleep. He didn't leave.
The day they released her, she walked to Jay's room. Her steps were slow. Her face was pale. Alex was beside her, his hand on her arm, his face worried.
Lyra sat on the edge of the bed. She looked at Jay. At the bandages. At the bruises. At the ring on her finger.
"You're wearing it," Lyra said.
Jay looked at her hand. The ring was there. It hadn't come off since Keifer put it back on.
"I'm wearing it," Jay said.
Lyra looked at her for a long moment. Then she almost smiled.
"Good," she said.
---
Jay was released on a Thursday.
Keifer came to get her. He walked into her room, his hands empty, his face calm. He looked at her clothes, the ones Freya had brought, the black pants and black blazer she had worn before the war.
"You're wearing black," he said.
"I always wear black."
He walked to her. He took her face in his hands. His fingers were warm.
"You're beautiful," he said.
She looked at him. His face was tired. His eyes were dark. He was the most familiar thing in her life.
"You're an idiot," she said.
He smiled. "I know."
He kissed her. Soft. Slow. A kiss that said everything.
She kissed him back.
---
The house was full when they got home.
Ci N was on the sofa, his feet up, his phone in his hand. Felix was beside him, his shoulder against Ci N's, his eyes on the door. Percy was in the kitchen, making noise, making food, making everything normal. Aries was at the table, their hands folded, their face soft. Yuri was in his corner, his arms crossed, his face cold. But his eyes were on the door.
Keiran ran to her. His arms went around her waist. His face was in her shirt.
"Ate Jay," he said. "You're home."
She knelt. Her side screamed. She didn't let it show.
"I'm home," she said.
He hugged her. His arms were small. His hands were tight.
"I knew you would come back," he said. "I told Kuya you would come back."
She looked at Keifer. He was standing in the doorway, watching them.
"You were right," she said.
Keiran smiled. He ran to the kitchen, to Percy, to the noise and the food and the normal.
Jay stood up. Her side was burning. Her hands were steady.
Keifer walked to her. His hand was on her back. His face was close.
"You should rest," he said.
She looked at the living room. At Ci N on the sofa, at Felix beside him, at Percy in the kitchen, at Aries at the table, at Yuri in his corner. At the house that was hers now. The home that was theirs.
"I've been resting for two weeks," she said. "I'm tired of resting."
He smiled. It was small. Tired. Real.
"Then let's eat," he said.
---
The night came.
Jay stood at the window of her room. Her room. Their room. The bed was made. The curtains were open. The garden was dark below. The steps where they had sat were empty.
Keifer came in behind her. His arms went around her waist. His face was in her hair.
"You should sleep," he said.
She leaned back against him. His chest was warm. His heart was steady.
"I'm not tired," she said.
He turned her to face him. His hands were on her face. His eyes were steady.
"You almost died," he said.
"I didn't."
"You almost died. Three times. The doctors said—"
She kissed him. His lips were warm. His hands were shaking.
"I'm not going to die," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."
He pulled her close. His arms were tight. His face was in her hair.
"You promised," he said.
She held him. Her side was burning. Her hands were steady.
"I promised," she said.
---
END OF CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR