Page 245 of Lethal King

No!

My eyes snap open.

Someone is standing over my bed. I struggle to make out who it is.

“… Dad?” My dry lips finally part. I feel a strong hand on mine.

“You’re going to be alright,” he promises. “Everything is going to be alright.”

“Roz…” I croak. “Where is she?”

My vision is hazy. But I still understand my dad loud and clear when he nods to the bedroom wall.

“She’s next door,” he assures me. “Don’t worry. She’ll be back on her feet before you are.”

“I need to see her.”

The IV stands that surround my bed rattle as I try to push myself up. But my left shoulder is numb and the rest of my body is quickly engulfed in fire.

My blurry vision is overtaken by blackness.

The next time I open my eyes, no one’s at my bedside.

No. Wait. There is someone.

“I brought your painting,” Mel quietly says.

I’m just able to turn my head. In the corner, I see a tall canvas. It rises to the ceiling. Somehow, the abstract artwork makes more sense now.

Even through the blurriness, I see where my heart is supposed to be. I see where pride got in the way. I see my destiny. I see my true mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to my little sister. “… For leaving you…”

“I understand,” Mel sighs. “I was never really alone…”

Her sweet innocent voice fades with the room as I’m dragged back into the darkness again. This time, no nightmares wait to greet me. Pinpricks of warmth jump around like jolts of electricity.

Still, the emptiness is overbearing. I sink further and further… and then, I hit something. A solid floor. It’s so warm I never want to leave.

My heavy eyelids flutter back open.

“You look like hell.”

That voice.

That sweet, sweet voice.

A painful laugh rattles from my throat as a beige ceiling blurs in and out of focus.

“Turn my head so I can see how bad you look,” I carefully rasp.

A sharp set of fingernails trace a gentle figure eight over my stubble before spreading out across my jaw. A warm palm is rested on the back of my hand.

Roz turns me by the chin.

Those stunning green eyes come into focus.

“Do I look as bad as you thought?” she asks, raising a brow at me.