Lachan opened the door to the dimly lit room. It was evening and Gina was in bed, sound asleep. Lachlan stood in the doorway and just watched her for a minute. This was his heaven. He had Gina back, their relationship was out in the open, no more secrets. Now to get her better and back home where she belonged.
And then hell again. Her face contorted into a grimace. She was doing so much better now but the nightmares still lingered and it looked like one had her in its teeth right now. That was the worst—trying to reorient her when she woke from one.
Lachlan set the sunflowers aside and got into the hospital bed with her.
“Lach? Fleur? Where’s Fleur?” She looked around wildly.
“I’m right here. Fleur is with Sana. I’ll smuggle her in to see you again tomorrow. You’re in the hospital. It was just a dream.”
He settled Gina against his chest then brushed a lock of her sweaty hair off her forehead. She gave him all her weight, which was alarmingly less than the last time she’d lain against him in bed. Worse, she was scared. His Sunshine was shaken and that was terrifying.
Just meant he had to be brave for the both of them.
When he thought she’d finally fallen asleep again, she whispered, “Thanks for finding me.”
“Always, lass. We can’t help but find each other, can we?”
“We always do,” she said.
He’d played with her hair, worried about whatever this was. It had dimmed her golden eyes and her wits and spirit along with them. He touched her gently, carefully, as if she were a wounded bird whose bones he could break under the lightest pressure. He loved her strong and sassy, not weak. Weak worried him. Weak was a place he might not be able to follow her into and bring her back out of.
“We always do,” he echoed, remembering the jasmine-scented courtyard, the myriad places they’d sneaked off to, the bar in Key West.
Lach grabbed a washcloth and dabbed the sweat off her forehead. He wasn’t sure when he dozed off, but when he awoke again, Gina was sitting up on the edge of the bed with her back to him. Spooky had escaped his arms without him feeling it.
So she wasn’t totally gone.
“I had another nightmare,” she said. Her voice sounded flat.
“Come back here then.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Sunshine. Come back to me.”
She wiped her eyes, or he assumed she did. She wouldn’t let him see her cry.
That had to stop.
“You’re wasting your energy,” he told her.
“What do you mean?”
“Trying not to cry. It’s a bloody waste of energy. No point to it.”
“I’m not crying.”
“You’re crying all right.” Lach sat up and reached for her but she stood and crossed the room to the window. She gripped the thin, metallic slats of the blinds like they were the bars of a prison before she pulled them aside.
“It’s too dark in here. It’s no good to open the blinds though. It’s dark outside. It’s dark everywhere.”
She hung her head.
Lach was up and across the room in the space of a heartbeat. He gently wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled Gina’s back against his chest. She didn’t raise her head but her hands came off the slats and gripped his arms. He swayed with her until he felt teardrops pelt his forearms.
“I dream about Little Edward Cay, only we fail. We don’t get Jordan back. And then I see the women and children’s faces. Over and over.” She sobbed. “I failed them in real life.”
“No, lass. You did what you could for them. Others failed them by not doing anything.”
