AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The heart monitor screams as she rushes over to my bedside. Her face pales in color as she glances at the screen and pulls a clipboard from the foot of the bed. She places a hand on my shoulder—probably meaning to relax me—but the heart monitor screams louder.
“Please try to calm down,” she coaxes, pulling away to tuck a stray strand of midnight hair behind her ear.
Maybe if you stopped touching me.
I try to convey this message with my eyes, but she’s already turned away to look closer at the monitor, again placing that lovely, warm hand on my chest.
“That’s so strange,” she murmurs. “All your other vitals look fine.” A piece of raven hair falls over her face, and she swipes it away with a delicate hand. She keeps it there, holding that strand of hair in place and letting me get a good look at her profile.
I was wrong earlier. She’s not pretty; she’s striking. High cheekbones, a button nose arcing perfectly up to her brow, and thick, dark lashes framing a pair of the most dazzling green eyes I’ve ever seen. A deep, mossy emerald, like the hue of magnolia leaves in summertime.
Want. Want, want, want.
The words sound over and over in my head and try as I might, I can’t force them inside their room.
“Your pressure looks good…miraculously.” She whispers the last part under her breath, and I watch her eyes shoot over to where the dead guy used to be. My fingers twitch with the need to reach out and touch her. Feel her.
Want. Want, want, want.
She can’t be real. This must be some kind of fucked-up, morphine-induced hallucination.
I glance down at that hand on my chest, willing it to be of this earth and not some vivid nightmare. A stray thought pierces my mind—that maybe this is hell. The perfect torment and torture. Strapped down just out of reach. Forced to watch. Forced to want. Forced to remain just out of reach, never allowed to touch. Never allowed to taste.
Oblivious to my eyes on her, she continues in her broken voice. “Did you know him?” she asks as she removes her hand, letting the stray lock of hair fall back against her cheek, and motions to the bed behind her. “The man who came in with you?” Her eyes fill with tears once more, mistaking the shock on my face for one of sadness. If her next words are what I think, then… I did it. I really killed him.
She continues, not realizing the comfort she’s given me. “We tried everything we could, but…” She stops, her mouth setting in a bitter line, all signs of tears evaporating. “You know what? That’s a lie. We didn’t do everything—couldn’t—yet no one but me seems to give a damn.” She meets my gaze. “I’m sorry. I'm sorry if you knew him and he was your friend. Because I know no one else in this hospital will give you any sense of human decency. Won’t say they’re sorry they barely tried.”
Sweet, innocent little thing. How did she survive so long in this city? You want to know and play with the little light behind those haunting, beautiful eyes. Would love to wrap your fingers around that throat and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
The last thought has me shooting straight up. No. NO.
“Please don’t sit up yet! You’ll hurt yourself!” she urges, placing both hands on my shoulders to press me back down. I look into those deep green pools, focusing on everything but the unhinged thoughts rushing through my mind. They’re fast—nearly too fast to make out—but I know if I let them, they’ll sink their claws in and break open every door in my mind.
Want. Want, want, want.
Slowly, I rest my head back on the stained pillowcase, and her face falls with relief.
“Thank you,” she mutters, straightening and taking her beautiful hands with her. She notices my expression and continues. “For not fighting me.”
A pang rings in my chest, but it has more to do with the look on her face than any pain from the wound. I have a strange urge to reach out and hold her, to ease the frightened look in her eyes.
Need. Need, need, need.
I’m not going to hurt you. I wouldn’t. Not something so beautiful, so precious.
So, so breakable.
I force the door closed on that thought, listening to it pound and scream against its confines. I don’t let it out.
“I’m going to give you a little something to help you relax, then I’ll extubate. How’s that sound?” she asks, grabbing a bottle from one of the anesthetic trays. Her hands shake as she fills a syringe with a milky liquid, and I wonder what caused her swift change in temperament.
I don’t notice when she pushes the liquid into the IV, so when I drift again, alarm bells ring in my mind, sending me into a wild, drug-induced frenzy. My body bucks on the bed, rebelling against being put back to sleep.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” she whispers, placing her tiny hand on top of my shoulder in an attempt to relax me. The sudden touch has the opposite effect, and unlike earlier, I try to rip my arm away from her fingertips. She’s stronger than she looks, though, and in my weakened state, she holds my torso down with ease.
Something deep in my consciousness screams at me, telling me there’s something important I haven’t fully realized. I search her face, and with a jolt, I realize this isn’t the first time I’ve seen this girl.
I don’t know why it took me so long to recognize her. The raven hair, the haunting eyes, the impossible innocence plastered across her face. It’s been years, but I’d recognize her anywhere.
