Morozov

Chapter 30

Niveen
My ribs were healing pretty well - I hated to admit it - just like the doctor said they would. I didn't feel bad for expressing a certain skepticism towards him, though.

A knock on my door pulled me out of my half-slumber. My brows knitted. The people guarding my room - who were members of our squad that had nothing to do - never knocked. A look on the clock also told me that they weren't even supposed to change shifts yet. I could use some company, though. So I called the person in.

It was Jack. I sat up straighter, feeling heat flush my cheeks to an embarrassing shade of red. I could only remember bits of what happened at Ace's but that was enough to make me feel ashamed.

"Hello," I said, clearing my throat because my voice cracked from not being used that much lately.
Jack didn't smile. He also didn't say hello. He strode in, approaching my closet.

Is this the moment he's going to kill me?

When he opened my closet, I knew it wasn't and got even more confused. He hadn't once visited me in the past four weeks and now he's suddenly coming over, only to search through my dresser?

"What are you doing?" I asked pointedly, turning so my legs dangled down the bed.

"Packing," he answered shortly while putting the pile of clothes he'd collected onto my bed. "Where's your suitcase?"

"Under the bed," I answered absentmindedly before clearing my head. "Why are you packing?"

Jack grabbed me at the backs of my calves and lifted my legs up to pull the suitcase out from under where I was sitting. His hand traveled up until it reached my left knee before he let go.

I couldn't help but heat from his touch. This really needed to stop.

He took a while to answer, his expression somewhat conflicted. "There was an attack on one of our quarters in the north. Two squats were there."

My stomach sank. Mallory told me about Ace sending squats to the north to help his people there. The snow catastrophe destroyed several houses, some of which belonged to dealers or other members of the Rodrigues Mafia.

"How many people died?" I asked.

"We don't know yet. Twelve were trapped under an avalanche in a cabin last night. We need to go and help save the ones that did survive," he answered.

I nodded my head. This wasn't about Jack or me or anything that was going on between us. This was about twelve human beings with families and friends and a right to live.

I was dressed and in Jack's car twenty minutes later. It wasn't his sports car but a matte black land rover that was big enough to get through the masses of snow that were waiting for us.

"I hope you packed a pair of gloves," I said when we started driving.
"I hope you packed a pair of gloves," he retorted, laughing shortly with his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the street ahead.

I yawned. "Care if I turn on the heater of my seat? I'm freezing-"
The words died in my throat when I reached for the button and my eyes found it already turned on.

My gaze found Jack's side. "You asshole," I laughed, mocking him. "You turned it on for me."

"Shut up," he retorted, sounding bored. "And go to sleep. You're annoying when you're tired."

I did actually fall asleep at some point — which I told myself not to but I was too tired to fight it after an hour of driving.

When I woke up, the sun had long set and white snow glittered in the dark landscape around us.
We must have gotten into a snow storm of some sort because Jack's heater was on, too.