“It’s okay,” she said, not sure how long she had left, but understanding she needed to use that time wisely.
“It will be,” Voodoo promised her, his fingers gently caressing her cheek. “I'm not going to let you die.”
There was no doubt he meant that with every fiber ofhis soul.
Only it wasn't up to him.
He wasn't responsible for her life, or anyone else’s. His ability to save was miraculous, no doubt about that, but he was more than that. It wasn't what made him valuable. What she respected most about him, what she was even coming to love about him, was that he cared. Truly cared. For someone like her who had never been given an ounce of kindness from anyone in her life, that meant more than the fact that he could save the lives of people who should have died.
“Voodoo,” she whispered, lifting heavy arms to press her hand over his, needing him to feel what she was saying, not just hear it. “You don’t need to save me.”
“Of course I do,” he growled, like what she’d just said was personally offensive to him.
“No, you don’t. It’s not your job to save everyone, it’s not what makes you special,” she assured him, imploring him to believe her, to understand what she was trying to say so that her death didn't destroy him.
“It is,” he argued, and she knew he believed that, had been conditioned to expect it was the only thing of value he could possibly offer the world.
“You’ve already given me more than I could ever have hoped for,” she told him. “That’s what matters. Not if you can save my life, I knew what I was risking when I shot us. I want you to live, I want you to soar, I want you to know that you deserve all the good things in the world, because you’ve given me only good things. I'm grateful that you healed me, saved me several times over already, but I'm more grateful that you cared, that you showed me what it meant to have someone care. You saw me, you never made me feel dirty, never made me feel that I was only the product of a terrible childhood, that I would only ever be a victim. You made me feel … special.”
That didn't seem like a strong enough word to convey all he’d given her, but it was the best she could come up with as her strength bled away with each drop of blood that oozed from the hole in her stomach.
“You're killing me, honey,” Voodoo’s agonized voice whispered. He lowered his head, touched his forehead to hers, and his breath, so very warm and soft against her skin, was the gentlest of caresses.
“You're more than your ability to save lives, you always have been,” she told him. “I hate that your parents didn't make you understand that, but that’s their fault, their loss. You're the best person I've ever met in my entire life. You made me believe in humanity, believe in goodness, in happiness. For the first time ever, I've felt what it was like to matter. You gave me that, and it means everything to me.”
“It’s not over yet, honey,” Voodoo said, voice urgent as he lifted his head. “I … can't save you on my own. Your injuries are too severe, you’ve lost too much blood, you're too weak. But I’ll get a surgeon flown here ASAP?—”
“On it,” someone interjected, but Indigo didn't lift her gaze from Voodoo’s.
“I can keep you alive until help gets here. Then we’ll get you fixed up. I’ll bring you home, and you can have everything you deserve, all the happiness, all the peace, all the opportunities, it’s all yours, honey. All you have to do is hold on a little bit longer.”
He was so desperate, so pure in his desire to save, that she smiled, despite the distance that seemed to be growing between them.
“Already too late,” she whispered. “But it doesn’t matter. I'm not scared. You’ve given me so much, and I'm okay with how this turned out. As long as you live, then I'm happy. Almost.”
His brows arched in question, and her shaking hands shifted to frame his face.
“Kiss me. One last time. Please.”
“Don’t ever have to beg me for that, honey.”
Lips feathered across hers, and Indigo felt the last of her strength waft away. If she was going to die, she couldn’t think of a better last moment. The promise of what could have been infused in the kiss, Indigo was true to her promise that she was going to die happy, as consciousness filtered out of her mind.
Chapter
Twenty
January 28th
5:55 A.M.
She looked so peaceful.
Like she was just sleeping.
His beautiful fairytale princess, if only a kiss was all it took to wake her up.
If that was all Indigo needed, then Voodoo would do it in a heartbeat. In fact, he had kissed her several times over the last three days just in case that was all she needed to open those big, beautiful eyes of hers.
