The nightmare vanishes, and I’m back. Sort of. I feel it. Dampness. Like something cold and wet is dripping onto my skin.
I fight the darkness, pushing against the weight that’s crushing me. I need to get out of here.I need to see her.
Then it happens. My eyelids twitch. Just a crack, but enough to let in the light. Everything’s blurry, like I’m swimming in fog, but there’s something… no,someonestaring down at me.
“D!!”
I blink hard, my vision starting to clear, and there she is. Wren. Her beautiful brown eyes, wide and full of tears, staring right into mine.
It’s real.
This is real.
She’s here.
Her face hovers above me, eyes wide, full of tears, and for a second, I think I’m still dreaming. But then, she moves.
“Oh, my God. D!!”
Her voice cracks, but the relief there is real, raw, and it hits me harder than the bullets did. She’s here. I try to smile, but my body’s not cooperating. Everything aches, but not enough to stop me from feeling it—the way my chest swells just looking at her.
She’s staring at me like I’ve come back from the dead, which, I guess, I have. I manage to blink, just barely, and that’s when it happens.
Her relief turns to anger.
Her brows slam together, deep lines cutting across her forehead, and her eyebags, darker than I’ve ever seen them, only make her look more beautiful. Fuck, she’s exhausted. Her hands come up, and before I can even process it—smack—she slaps me.Hard.
“You fucking asshole!” she growls, and before I can get a word out,smack—another slap.
“Ouch,” I manage to grunt.
“Do you have any idea what you put me through?!” She’s ranting now, her eyes wild. Her hands flying—not gentle. She’s mad, pissed, but it’s not anger, not really. It’s something deeper.
I want to laugh. God, I want to laugh so bad, but everything fucking hurts. My ribs scream in protest, my muscles tight, every breath feels like a knife in my side, but I still can’t stop staring at her.
“Wren…” I croak out, but she doesn’t stop.
“I thought you were dead, you stupid fucking—ugh!” Another slap, soft this time, but still enough to sting. She’s panting now, her face flushed, eyes sparkling with fury andsomething else.
“Let me get the doctor,” she says, her voice shaky, still caught between relief and panic. She steps back, looking like she might run to grab the doctor, her head snapping toward the door, but I can’t let her go.
Not now. Not ever again.
“Wait…” My voice is hoarse, barely there, but enough to stop her.
Her eyes flick back to me, torn, her body still shifting toward the door.
With every bit of strength I can muster, I reach out, my hand shaky, weak. My fingers barely brush her wrist, but I get her.I hold on.
She looks down at me, shocked, her mouth slightly open, and I squeeze.I’m not letting go.
“Stay…” My voice comes out rough, barely a whisper, but it’s enough. Her eyes soften, her body stills. She looks at my hand on her wrist, and I can see the battle in her eyes. She wants to run, to get help, to fix me. But she doesn’t. Not yet.
I swallow hard, forcing the words out, my grip tightening. “I’m… not… letting you go.Ever.”
76
Wren
