“I told you I would find a way to get it, and I did,” she said proudly. Then she grabbed my hand. “You’re not mad at me, right?”
Her eyelids were growing heavy, and she looked moments away from falling asleep. I leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Can’t be mad at you for outsmarting me. Fucking diabolical. But I will have to punish you once you’re feeling better,” I said, my lips close to her ear so the others couldn’t hear.
“I should hope so,” she murmured, her eyes falling closed.
I pressed the button on the bed remote to lower the bed into a more comfortable position. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
Westin looked so vulnerable in the bed, and I wished more than anything that I could curl up with her.
Gray grasped my shoulder. “She’ll be okay. She’s strong.”
“I don’t want her to have to be strong,” I stroked my hand through her hair. Even though I was touching Westin, I was growing increasingly agitated that she wasn’t in my arms. This entire night had been a shit show. Then she let out a whimper in her sleep and I almost lost my fucking mind. A growl tore through my chest as I kissed her softly on the cheek, trying to chase the nightmares away.
“I’ll help you get in bed with her,” Liam said softly, squeezing my shoulder.
I whipped my head around to look at him.
“You look like you’re about to lose it, and she’ll sleep better like that, anyway.”
I squeezed myself into bed with Westin and she immediately curled up against me. Her warm skin pressed against mine, her breaths skating across my neck.
She was alive.
She would be okay.
I would not lose her.
97
WESTIN
CHEMO DAY 19
Dr. Ash wanted me to stay in the hospital another night for observation. They’d done an EKG on me last night and diagnosed me with Atrial fibrillation, which was treatable with medication, but they were concerned because omegas were more “medically fragile.” Their words, not mine.
I had my chemo on the infusion floor earlier this morning—my second to last one—and then returned to my hospital room. I tried to convince the guys to bring me home, but they’d sided with the doctors.
Traitors.
I hated being here. It was a constant reminder that I was sick, and everything about the environment set me on edge. They’d given me one of their omega suites and it was clear they’d tried to make them more comfortable with the dim lighting, larger beds, and air purifiers to remove extra scents, but I still couldn’t relax. Gray and Liam had gone to run some secret errand, and I was irrationally angry about that, too. If I couldn’t leave the hospital, it didn’t seem fair that they got to.
“Do you want anything more for dinner?” Bear asked, eyeing my almost full tray. The hospital dinner had consisted of some sort of unappetizing beef stew with a side of pudding. I wouldn’t want to eat it even if my stomach wasn’t churning with nausea.
“We can order something else to the room, too,” Henry said. “What sounds good, gorgeous?”
“What sounds good is to not be here.”
“Feeling a bit cranky, baby?” Bear ran his hand down my arm.
I scowled at him. “At no point in the history of the universe has anyone’s mood improved when asked that question.”
“She has a point,” Henry said. “But so does he.” He grasped my hand, holding it tight even when I tried to pull it away.
I was in a fucking terrible mood, but who wouldn’t be after being trapped in the hospital?
“When I ran back to the house earlier, I brought something in case you wanted to pass the time.” Henry reached into his bag and pulled out a small box, which I immediately recognized as the one that held my tarot cards.
