“Jaxon.” I can’t stop myself from reaching for him. “Please—”

All of a sudden, his bedroom window shatters, glass flying in all directions. It sounds like an explosion, and I let out a strangled scream as shards of glass hit me above my eyebrow and on my neck, my cheek, my shoulder.

“Go!” Jaxon shouts, and this time there’s no defying him. Not when he looks and sounds so out of control.

He advances on me then, fingers flexing and eyes burning like black coals in a face livid with rage.

I turn and run as fast as my weak knees will carry me, determined to get to the staircase, to freedom, before this strange, monstrous version of Jaxon overtakes me.

I don’t make it.

   35

Baked Alaska

Is More than

Just a

Yummy Dessert

I wake up in my bedroom with bandages on my neck and face and shoulder—and absolutely no memory of how I got here.

Macy is sitting cross-legged on the end of my bed, my uncle is standing by the door, and a woman I assume is the school nurse is hovering over me. With her waist-length black hair, bloodred nails, and stern face, she looks nothing like any nurse I’ve ever seen, but she’s got a stethoscope around her neck and a roll of bandages in her hand.

“See, Finn, here she is. I told you the sedative wouldn’t knock her out for long.” She smiles at me and, though it is open and inviting, she still manages to look intimidating af. I think it’s the long, beak-like nose, but it could also be the medicine she said she gave me. I’m awake, but I still feel really fuzzy, like nothing is quite as it appears.

“How are you feeling, Grace?” she asks.

“I’m okay,” I answer, because nothing hurts. In fact, everything feels warm and floaty right now.

“Yeah?” She leans over me. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.”

“Where are you?”

“In Alaska.”

“Good enough.” She turns to my uncle. “See, I told you she was going to be okay. She lost some blood, but—”

“Jaxon!” The warm, floaty feeling melts away as I struggle to sit up. I don’t know how I could have forgotten. “Is he okay? He was…” I stop when I realize I don’t have a clue what to say next. Because I don’t have a clue what actually happened up in that tower.

I remember Jaxon kissing me…and probably will for the rest of my life.

I remember the earthquake.

I remember running, though I don’t know why.

And I remember blood. I know there was blood, but I can’t figure out why.

“Don’t push so hard,” the nurse tells me with a pat to the back of my hand. “It’ll come if you don’t try to force it.”

It doesn’t feel like it will come. It feels like everything’s a blur, like my synapses just aren’t connecting the way they should.

Exactly what kind of sedative did this nurse give me anyway?

“Macy?” I turn to my cousin. “I—”

“Jaxon’s fine,” she assures me.

“He saved you,” my uncle tells me. “He got you to the nurse, Marise, before you could bleed out.”

“Bleed out?”

Marise is the one who answers. “When the window shattered, flying glass nicked an artery in your neck. You lost a lot of blood.”

“My artery?” My hand flies to my neck as terror sets in for the first time. That’s how my mother died. An arterial bleed-out before the ambulance could arrive.

“You’re fine,” my uncle says, his voice low and soothing. He reaches for my hand, pats it a few times. “Thankfully Jaxon was there. He slowed the bleeding and got you to Marise’s office before…”

“Before I died.” I say what he won’t.

My uncle turns white. “Don’t think about that now, Grace. You’re fine.”

Because Jaxon saved me. Again. “I want to see him.”

“Of course,” Uncle Finn agrees. “Once you’re up and about.”

“No, I’d really like to see him now.” I start kicking at my covers, which feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. “I need to make sure he’s okay. I need…” I trail off. I don’t know what I need, except to see Jaxon. To see his face, to touch him, to feel him breathe and know that he’s really okay.

And also because I’ll go out of my mind if I don’t find out how he feels about the kiss we shared. Soon.

“Whoa, now.” Marise puts a firm hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down against the bed. “You can see Jaxon tomorrow. For now, you need to stay here and rest.”

“I don’t want to rest. I want—”

“I know what you want, but that’s not possible right now. You’re weak.” The stern look is back, and it has multiplied times ten. “I don’t think you realize how serious this injury is. You need to recuperate.”

“I know exactly how serious an arterial bleed is,” I insist, my mother’s face floating behind my eyes for a few seconds before I manage to blink it away. “I’m not planning on snowboarding down the side of Denali. I just want to see my…”

I break off because I was about to call Jaxon my boyfriend and no, just no. One kiss does not a boyfriend make, even if it was the best kiss of my life. Maybe even the best kiss in the history of the world. I mean, until the glass started flying.

I try to play it off by picking at my comforter, but Macy’s wide eyes tell me I’m not doing a very good job of it.

All of a sudden, Marise and Uncle Finn are studying me a lot more closely, too, though neither of them makes a comment about my slipup. Instead, Marise simply pulls my comforter back over me and says, “Behave or I’ll give you another sedative. And this time I’ll make sure it knocks you out for several hours.”

The threat is real—I can see it in her eyes—so I don’t push to see Jaxon any more. Instead, I settle back against my pillows and do my best impression of a good little patient.

“I’ll behave,” I promise. “You don’t need to give me a sedative.”

“We’ll see,” she harrumphs. “You need rest, and it’s my job to make sure you get it. How that happens is completely up to you.”