Page 24 of Badd B*tch

Long minutes pass in silence then; my head aches and throbs, the pain coming and going in waves. It could have been so, so much worse. The fact that both of us came through that crash-landing with no more than mild concussions, bumps, bruises, and cuts from the flying glass is nothing short of a miracle, considering we crashed through and into a whole-ass fucking forest.

I tried to fall asleep, but kept seeing all the ways the crash could have gone differently—mostly, I kept seeing Jax impaled beside me, a tree branch through his chest. At one point, I must have fallen asleep, and the mental gymnastics of would’ve-could’ve-should’ve-what-if transitioned to a nightmare, because I jerked awake, a scream caught in my throat like a sour bubble of thick phlegm.

I shot upright, head swimming, panting.

"Hey, whoa, whoa. Easy, Tea." Jax’s voice was sleepy and slow and calm and soothing. "You're okay. It's okay."

I peered at him in the gloom—intact, whole. No blood froth on his lips.

Fuck.

I scrubbed my face. "Sorry, sorry. Bad dream."

"Don't apologize for having a nightmare."

"I woke you up."

"I was only dozing. Trying to keep watch."

"Keep watch for what?"

"I dunno. Wolves. Bears."

"Nothing is coming near here any time soon. Just sleep."

He sighed, settling back down. "Does it help you to talk about your bad dreams or no? You don't have to if you don't want to, but if it would help, I'll listen."

My calcareous heart squeezed, just a tiny bit. "I'm good. But thanks."

"Mmmm." Something in the way he hummed that noncommittal sound made it feel like he didn't believe me but wasn't going to argue.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"I have a tendency to obsess over what I could have done differently after a crash. And sometimes, after I fall asleep, that turns into bad dreams of how things could have gone worse. My brain is fun like that."

"You couldn't have done anything any better, Tea. You saved our lives."

"I just did my job."

"Mmmm." Yeah, that’s definitely an “I disagree, but I'm too smart or tired or both to argue with you about it" sound.

Eventually, I did fall asleep more soundly, and dreamlessly.

And not because of the way Jax managed to find my hand in the darkness and sort of accidentally rest his on top of mine. It wasn't handholding, but it did keep the bad dreams away. Not that I'd admit to it.

I was developing quite a little pile of weird things not to examine too closely, where Jax Badd was concerned.

Chapter 5

Jax

I've never been so disoriented upon waking in my life.

First, there was the birdsong—a cascading symphony of chirps and trills, rills, and ripostes. There was also a soft, steady rushing of wind, and the gentle creak of trees.

Then there was the weight across my legs. I was stretched out diagonally from the corner of the bench seat across the passenger compartment, ankle over ankle. It was honestly fairly comfortable, as far as makeshift sleeping arrangements went, except for the weight across my thighs that had my toes tingling.

Tea.