Broken Skies

Stay back! I stumble backwards at the force of the words echoing in my head. What the hell? No time to worry about it now.

Lir’s prone on the ground, the blond’s gun resting on his temple and Peter is frantically waving his arms and chattering away while being held back by the other.

“Where is she? What did you do with her? Where is she?!” Each question from the blond rises in volume until I can almost see the angry spittle flying from his mouth.

They want me? They can have me. At least I can buy some time.

I pop out from behind a bush and yell from my position in the trees. “Hey! Stop that!” Not the most brilliant plan, but at least their attention is drawn away from Lir. Two men stay with their guns pointed at Lir’s crouched form and two move toward me, including the blond. I raise my hands and move slowly out of the trees. The gun barrels stay on me, but I’m more angry than scared. “The guns are uncalled for. I’m not going anywhere.”

One gun barrel shifts away and the other drops completely as the men move closer.

“Jax? Oh thank God.” The blond runs forward and gathers me into a hug. His— Flint’s— arms squeeze me until I can hardly breathe. “Dammit. I was so worried. Did it hurt you?”

The vice around me loosens a little and I’m able to speak. “How did you even get here?”

“We’ve been tracking you.” He runs one hand through his hair. “It’s bad enough that they’ve got Jace, I wasn’t going to let some erk take you hostage and not come after you.”

I wince and wiggle out of his arms. Maybe we should have come up with a different story. “Let them go, Flint. I’m here willingly. It’s not what you think.” He glances over his shoulder and then back at me, a questioning look on his face. “Just do it,” I say.

His brows furrows and he places one finger in the center of my chest, tapping it to punctuate his words. “You better have a really good explanation.”

“I do. Just release my friends.” My gaze doesn’t waver from his until he turns around and tells the brown haired man— Daniel, shudder— to release Peter and the rest of the men to lower their guns.

And my very first instinct is to run to Lir and crouch down on the ground beside him. No blood, a little pale and winded, but he’s okay.

As I look him over, he’s got eyes only for me. “Do you ever listen to anyone?” He asks. His hand comes up to my cheek. “They could have killed you.”

“Flint wouldn’t have shot me.”

“You didn’t know it was your friend before you made your move. What if it had been Stu or one of his men?” He moves into a standing position. “I was getting through to him. If you’d let me talk to him a while longer, I could have gotten the message across with no danger to you at all.”

“Yeah, your way looked like it was going so well.” I roll my eyes. “Was it the gasping on the ground or Peter’s ramblings that were supposed to convince them of anything?”

He laughs and plants a kiss on the top of my head. What? Lir looks even more amused when heat gathers in my face. The laughter settles and the amusement slowly leaves his face as he looks around us. I should probably be paying more attention.

A variety of facial expressions surrounds us: wary shock from Flint, disgust from Daniel, glee from Peter, and confusion from the rest of Flint’s men. I imagine I look the most like the latter.

Lir’s hand tightens where it has fallen on my shoulder and he pulls me into his side and slightly behind him.

Daniel’s gun inches back up and Flint steps forward, narrowing his eyes. At his next step, I end up even farther behind an increasingly tense Lir.

“I told you she was fine.” Lir smiles with clenched teeth.

“So she is, physically at least.” Flint’s eyes sweep over Lir’s hand on my shoulder. “Mentally? I think I’ll need to talk with her myself for a while before I can decide that.”

“What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, erk. I’ll come out and say it, I don’t know what scheme you’re ru

Of all the things for Flint to bring up, like I’m his possession or something. Stupid male posturing. I’m about to lay into him when Lir’s head tilts to the side and his arm drops.

“Your…promised?”

Flint takes another step forward. “Yeah, as of the day you murdering scum stole my best friend. Someone has to look out for her.”

Lir faces falls. He sends a glance my way, hurt flashing across his features for a moment before a mask of indifference slips into place and he steps to the side— away from me. “I apologize for the injured soldiers, Emily volunteered to be tied up to aid in my escape and I did not kill anyone. Jax came with me of her own free will, the hostage thing was just a story, a lie… seems like not the only one… I was not aware of the circumstances of your bond and, therefore, I also apologize for any familiarity with your mate.”

Flint steps to my side, but keeps his eyes on Lir. “Let’s talk, Jax. I think you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“But what about—”

“Keep an eye on these two, Daniel.” Flint grabs my arm and pulls me toward the house.

“Now, young man, this is just uncalled for. Just put those guns away. I’ve minded my own business out here, but I have to protest at the treatment of my guests.” The shortest statement I’ve ever heard from Peter.

“Shut up, old man,” says Daniel.

I wait for Lir to look up, to protest, do something, anything, but he just keeps his eyes averted. Any fight has gone out of him and he won’t even meet my eyes, won’t even look my way.

My only choice is to lead Flint into the house and hope I can convince him to let us complete the rescue mission.

* * * * * * *

Flint and I sit at the kitchen table and I tell him everything, well almost everything. I don’t tell him about the kiss, or the cuddling…or the aching need I have to go to Lir who came inside about fifteen minutes into our conversation, walked to a bedroom, slammed the door closed and hasn’t made a sound since. I definitely don’t tell him about that, but the whole rescue mission idea, the hiking, the bear, Stu and his boys… I leave out Zach’s fate… and I tell him about the snake bite, leaving out the whole naked swimming part. So maybe, I leave out a little more than I tell, but he gets the pertinent parts, right?

Flint’s happy enough with my explanation. At least, he seems so, doesn’t question it anyway. When I unwrap the gauze and show him the large bundle of scar tissue— What the hell? How did that heal so quickly?— on my lower leg, he curses.

“You’ve had a rough couple weeks.” He runs his hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the table.

“No kidding.”

“I just don’t get it….” Blue eyes bore into my hazel ones. “Why didn’t you trust me? Why didn’t you wait? I had it under control.”

A small snort escapes me. “Under control? That’s what you call getting Promised? I’d hate to see what would have happened if you hadn’t had it under control.”

His face hardens. “Actually you would have. I wasn’t kidding when I told you what my father had pla

“Your father? What does he have to do with this?”

“Did you really think he’d let you escape, let you embarrass him like that?” Flint scoffs. “I had a plan, and now…”

I lean across the table. “And your plan nearly screwed up my plan, the one that was working!”

“Oh yes, your plan that worked out so well for you!” His voice starts to rise. “Piss poor pla