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Eighty Six

It's been a few days since we got back from Zain's crib. Days since Zain got arrested. Days since we sent in a mountain of evidence against him in Jaxton's name. Days since the IDP sent a message to summon Jaxton back. Days since Jaxton had remained unconscious.

I have practically moved into Jaxton's safehouse. I have been the one taking care of him since he was brought back here in the pool of his own blood.

I gently laid Jaxton on his bed, tucking the blankets around him to keep him warm. I took a damp cloth and began to wipe the dirt and sweat from his face, careful not to wake him. As I wiped away the grime, I could see the scratches and bruises on his skin, and my heart ached for him. I found a bandage and began to redress his wounds, taking care to be gentle and thorough.

As I finished tending to Jaxton's wounds, I pulled up a chair and sat by his bedside, keeping a watchful eye on him. I could see his chest rising and falling slowly, his breath coming in a steady rhyth
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