AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Epilogue
Deeper and Deeper
“You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot,” I whisper, smiling.
I’m in my favorite bed again, in the penthouse at The Raven, and Alistair has just brought in a bowl of ice cream.
“Oh, so you don’t want this ice cream, then?” he teases, pretending to take it back to the kitchen.
“I do!” I croak.
He brings it, and sits beside me on the bed.
“Thank you.”
“Shall I feed it to you?” he asks, an edge of naughtiness to his deep voice.
“I’m quite capable,” I reply, even while the image of Alistair licking ice cream off my body lingers.
He takes my hand and kisses it. It’s warm and reassuring.
“Any news from the hospital?” I ask.
Alistair stops smiling. “Jamie’s healing well. He’ll be off oxygen soon. I suspect the longer-lasting damage will be emotional.”
A familiar lump forms in my throat.
“Don’t you dare feel guilty,” Alistair says when he registers my distress. “Don’t you dare. What Jeff did to you and Jamie was evil. He’s the bad one. Okay?”
I nod.
“Jamie will have only the best care,” he continues. “Physically and psychologically. We’ll take care of him.”
Alistair made it clear to my parents that they were not to worry about the medical bills. That had helped to ease our family’s heartache. Once Jamie is healthy enough to be discharged, he’ll live with my folks for a while until we find him a new place to stay.
One with a proper studio, Alistair had insisted.
Lorna wasn’t as lucky. She had been beaten to within an inch of her life, including a near-catastrophic blow to the temple with what they guessed was the butt of Jeff’s revolver. Jamie was bursting to visit her, but they both had some way to go before that would be possible, as Lorna was in the ICU. Just thinking about her condition makes my blood boil. It just isn’t right that such a wonderful, selfless woman was so badly hurt.
“And you,” says Alistair.
I blink at him, having been completely lost in thought. “Sorry?”
“And the very best care for you, too,” he says, brushing a strand of my hair away from my face.
“I know what that’s code for,” I say, voice like gravel.
His smile returns. “I meant psychological care.”
“Sure you did.”
“Syd knows an excellent trauma counselor.”
“I don’t need a counselor,” I protest. “All I need is you.”
“That’s flattering, but not true. She’ll be here in half an hour.”
“What?”
