“Zayn…I’m so sorry,” I whisper to him as I peer up at him through the mist that surrounds us.“I am so sorry about what I said to you.”
“Never apologize, Doc, you got that?” His voice is rough. He presses his lips hard against my temple as he continues to carryme. “You are everything. Fuckingeverything to me.You never have to apologize.”
My eyes sting as I blink back tears and allow the weight of his words to wash over us both.
We pass the clearing and finally reach his black BMW, which is parked on an inlet of a dark gravel road. My head spins as I try to lift it up, and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more depleted. Gently, Zayn places me into the passenger seat.
“Where are we going?” I ask blearily, leaning my head back on the headrest as he buckles me in.
“To the hospital, baby.”
I nod faintly and close my eyes. The intoxicating scent of Zayn and his car envelop me as I float away on a wave of exhaustion and repose.
“Je t'aime jusqu'à la mort,” Zayn breathes out, his voice just above a whisper.
The last thing I feel are his warm lips pressing against my cheek.
26
JUSQU’À LA MORT
KAT
“Ok so what the actual fuckdoyou know then, Dr. Jenkins? I mean seriously. This is supposed to be a top fucking hospital. Christ.”
A woman’s agitated voice cuts through the fog that encircles my brain like a hot knife through butter. I would know that voice, and the pissed off tone in it anywhere and in any state. Even concussed, lying in a hospital bed.
“R-Rae?” I croak out. My throat is dry and searing like it’s on fire. I blink my eyes open.
“Kat!” she exclaims, a hint of relief cutting through the irritation in her voice. “Yes, I’m here. Battling with one of your dumbass on-call doctors, who won’t tell me anything about your condition that I couldn’t figure out for my own damn self.”
Rae’s face slowly comes into my view as I open up my eyes, but she looks as though she is underwater. I can make out the deep juniper green of her eyes, but not much else. Everything is blurry. Seconds later, I feel warm, rough hands gently slide my glasses onto my nose.I can tell by the feel they are my backupglasses that usually reside on my nightstand. I blink, adjusting to my renewed vision.
Zayn. His face comes into focus and something deep in my chest constricts.
Looking around, I see that I am lying in a hospital bed, most of my body covered up by a white sheet and a scratchy, light blue blanket. Silvery rivulets of rain streak down the large window at the end of the room. Rae hovers at the left-hand side of my bed, holding her cell phone and hanging up on what I presume is one of my doctors. Zayn stands just to my right, staring at me with an expression I've never seen on his face before.
“Hey baby,” he murmurs.
My heart swells as I remember the last moments we shared before I must have lost consciousness in his car.Had I dreamt those words he whispered to me?
“I should go let the nurses know you’re awake again,” Rae says. “Stay with her,” she adds, clearly talking to Zayn.
He gives her a look that seems to say,where the fuck else do you think I’d go?
Green eyes meet blue, and their gazes clash like lightning in a storm. Zayn versus Rae. Now that is something I wouldn’t want to be in the middle of. Except that I am, right now—currently helpless and lying in a hospital bed with the both of them leaning over me.
A tense, brittle energy fills the room like a helium balloon about to burst. My eyes dart between them, and I swallow thickly.
“Rae, this is… Zayn. My… my… Zayn,” I manage, lamely, as I try to sit up.
“Mhmm… we’ve met,” she replies knowingly, not sparing a second look at him.
“How are you? Do you need me to fluff your pillow for you? It’s about the only thing Icando since bringing you to this fucking chop shop withthe worstcoffee known to mankind.”
I move to shake my head, but immediately grimace and wince at the resulting throb of pain that reverberates through my head. Zayn’s warm hands gently rise to either side of my face and hold me still, as delicately as though I’m made of glass.I meet his eyes and give him a weak smile.
The police had already come and gone. I vaguely remember that. I had given them my statement in an exhausted and barely coherent state, Zayn grasping my hand tightly the whole time. Eastman had used his power, his charm, and his connections to break out of prison. Josh had been the mystery accomplice, lurking in the shadows. Unidentified, for years.
