Wilder

“Until then, we’re dead in the water,” Landon said.

“We have until tomorrow night,” I added quietly.

“What do you mean?” Penna asked.

“Finals are during this leg between Madagascar and Abu Dhabi. If Pax isn’t back on board, he’ll miss finals, fail this term, and your funding is terminated.” I almost laughed. “The funny thing is that his grades are just another problem. I don’t honestly care about my scholarship. I’ll go home tomorrow if that would keep him safe.”

Landon wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a hug, his taller, lankier frame comforting but only driving home how much I wanted Pax’s arms around me, his heartbeat against my ear.

“We’re going to do everything we can, Leah. There’s nothing we won’t do, no line we won’t cross to get him out of there. Okay?”

I nodded, the gears in my brain turning, looking for any solution, even the quasi-legal ones. He was Paxton Wilder, for crying out loud! His father was the head of a multibillion-dollar media company.

His father was going to kill him when he found out.

“You know…I think I’m going to lay down for a bit,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Yeah, of course,” Landon said, giving me a final squeeze before leaving, ushering everyone out but Penna.

“He’s going to be okay,” she promised. “You should see some of the stuff we’ve gotten into before.”

“In foreign countries?” I asked.

“Well, maybe it’s never been quite this bad.”

“I can’t imagine anything happening to him. I love him.” My voice broke.

Her eyes softened. “You know he feels the same, right?”

Did he? Even though he’d never said the words, I felt it every time he touched me, the way he told me that I was his everything. “Yeah, I think so. He’s never said it or anything. I’m not sure he’s capable of saying it.”

She nodded. “His parents’ divorce…what happened…” she trailed off.

“I know about the girl. About what happened the last time he tried to have a real relationship.”

Penna’s eyes flared in surprise and then she smiled. “I know he’s not perfect, but he cares about you in a way I’ve never seen him with anyone.”

“He loves me,” I said quietly. “He loves me.” I repeated with more conviction. “He doesn’t have to say the words for them to be true.”

“Just don’t give up on him, okay? Not in any sense.”

I forced a smile, knowing what I had to do, and what it might cost me. “We’ll figure it out. All of it.”

She hugged me. “I’m so glad he found you.”

I nodded, unable to say anything else for fear I’d tell her what I was about to do. With one final squeeze, she left me alone, closing the door behind her as she left.

Without hesitation, I opened Pax’s nightstand drawer first, pulling out his international cell phone, and then dug through my flex file of cruise papers to find the number I’d hidden. The card felt heavier now than it had when I’d taken it.

The bed sank under my weight as I sat down. My hand smoothed Paxton’s side, wishing he were here to leave the bed an unmade, rumpled mess, wishing I’d handed over the camera without a fight, done something to stop him from flying at the officer.

He might hate me for this, but like Landon said, there wasn’t a line they wouldn’t cross.

This was my line, Paxton’s line, and I crossed it with a simple press of my fingers to the numbers on the phone.

It rang twice before he picked up. “To what do I owe this honor?”

His voice…they were so similar, yet different enough to make my heart hurt.

“It’s Leah Baxter… You gave me your number—”

“I know who you are, Leah. What’s wrong?”

“Are you still in Paris? We’re in Madagascar, and Paxton’s in trouble. Big, scary trouble, and I don’t know how to get him out of it.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen hours, give or take the time it takes to locate the flight crew.”

A huge sigh of relief escaped me. In this, Paxton’s name could protect him. “Thank you, Brandon.”

“Don’t thank me, Leah. I can assure you that Paxton won’t.”

…

I dropped my bag on our bed the next day after spending the morning on the field-study trip for World Religion. Not that it had done me any good. My brain had been with Paxton, but at least the presence of my body gave me a check mark in the participation box for my grades.

There was a knock on the door and a two-second lull before it swung open, like it was a warning, not a request for entrance. “Good, you’re here,” Brandon said as he walked in, his suit ditched for jeans and a Henley, which made him look way more approachable, attractive, even.

“I’m so sorry, Leah,” Little John said from behind him.

“It’s okay, I called him,” I answered.

Little John’s eyes widened right before Brandon shut the door in his face.

“Okay, he keeps the permits in a fire-safe box…” Brandon muttered, throwing the cushion off the love seat by the window. “Here.” He lifted the box out of a cutout in the frame. “Paranoid son of a bitch, but I guess it’s working out in his favor.”

“We already checked the box, but how did you know about it?” I asked, walking over to where he placed it on the desk, working on opening it. Landon had been pretty clear that only the Originals knew where Paxton kept the permits, and Brandon didn’t seem the daredevil type.