But those paths had also led them to each other.
There was no way he could accept anything less than getting a shot at building something with Indigo. Something where they could both find what they’d spent decades searching for.
If his girl needed a reason to fight, to live, tocome back to him and embrace this chance life had thrown their way, he would keep giving her one until she had no choice but to wake up.
Shifting on the bed so he was no longer perched on the edge, gripping Indigo’s hand like it was a lifeline, Voodoo stretched out beside her. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon him. He hadn't done more than catnap in over a week now, he’d eaten only because Rose, Cassandra, and Whitney had hounded him into it, and he didn't want to disappoint the women he saw as little sisters. He had taken a single shower when he got home, only because he hadn't wanted to risk getting dirt in any of Indigo’s wounds.
Now he shifted her gently, so she was wrapped in his arms, then he buried his face against her long, dark locks, and held her, whispering in her ear all the ways he would make up to her what life had denied her so far, and praying.
Praying for one more miracle.
February 1st
1:01 P.M.
Indigo stretched as she woke.
That was the best sleep she’d had in … forever.
Her body and mind both felt well rested, so well rested in fact that it took her a moment to remember that the last thing she could recall was kissing Voodoo and then passing out convinced that she was close to taking her final breath.
Not only was she still breathing, but she’d obviously been out long enough to be moved from the forest. No longer was it hard, rough ground beneath her body, now she was lying on something soft and cozy. Her leg felt a little heavy, and there was a tightness to her stomach when she shifted position, so she must have been moved and patched up.
“You awake, honey?” Voodoo’s rough voice asked, and knowing he was still right there beside her, had her smiling as she opened her eyes.
That smile faded as she got a look at him. He was sprawled out beside her in the huge bed they were tucked into. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but because his body was tucked against hers, she could feel he had on a pair of sweatpants. His eyes were red, and there was shaggy scruff on his face that hadn't been there the last time she’d seen him.
“Thought I was never going to look into these beautiful eyes of yours again,” Voodoo told her as he reached out and smoothed a lock of hair off her forehead, and nuzzling into the touch was the easiest thing in the world to do. Didn't even take any conscious thought, it was just instinct to move toward this man for affection, even though she’d been denied tenderness her entire life.
“How long?” she asked, only the words came out as a croak and not much else. Her mouth didn't just feel dry, it felt like all the deserts of the world had gathered up their sands and used them to coat the inside of her throat.
“Let me get you some water.”
When Voodoo shifted, sitting up and removing the warmth of his body from beside hers, Indigo whimpered before she even realized it. Embarrassed, she was turning her head, trying to think about what she could pretend had caused the whimper if asked, and knowing it couldn’t be pain, when she caught the soft look on Voodoo’s face.
From his expression, he knew exactly why she’d whimpered, and he liked it.
A lot, if the slow smile curving up his lips was any indication.
“Not going far,” he assured her as he reached over to grab a glass of water that must have been sitting on the nightstand. “Let me help.” Balancing the glass in one hand, he slipped his arm behind her shoulders and lifted her slightly. “Don’t drink too much too fast, your system hasn’t had anything other than IV fluids in a week, and we don’t want to overdo it.”
Almost choking on the water he guided into her mouth, Indigo’s eyes widened as she got the answer to the question she’d been trying to ask.
A week.
Was that how long since that night in the forest she’d been positive she was going to die? No wonder her throat was so dry, and she felt likeshe’d been sleeping for so long. No wonder Voodoo looked like he’d been through the wringer.
Had he been lying beside her all this time?
“Yeah, honey, you’ve been unconscious for a week now,” Voodoo said as he helped her lie back against the pillows.
“You stayed the whole time? With me?” she asked, still not quite sure that she was drawing the right conclusions and not wanting to make herself look like an idiot if she’d gotten things majorly wrong.
The look he shot her was a cross between offended and incredulous. “Of course, where else would I be?”
Since she didn't have an answer to that, Indigo merely shrugged. The obvious answer was, of course, anywhere else, but she didn't think he’d like hearing that. In her mind, it was more of a why on earth would he waste his time hanging around at her side, especially if she was unconscious. Wasn't like she’d be good company.
“I see nothing I said to you when we were out there has sunk in yet.” Voodoo settled back down at her side, carefully tucking the blankets up and around her with such carefulness that it made her eyes sting.
