Arthur let go of my arm. I followed the doctor through the double doors, down a corridor, to a room at the end.
Garrett was propped up slightly in the bed. His eyes were closed, and he was pale, with IV lines snaking from the back of his hand. Bandages covered his forehead and his shoulder. He seemed smaller than he should have—a man who filled every doorway he walked through, reduced to a hospital bed and a heart monitor.
“Is he awake?” I asked the doctor.
His eyes fluttered open, and his head turned slowly to find me. “Grace.”
I hurried to his side, tears already pricking at my eyes again. Again! I’d rehearsed a thousand things to say to him while I was in the waiting room, but all I could manage was, “Hi.”
“Hi.” His voice was rough, as if every word hurt.
I took his hand, and his fingers closed around mine. My whole body shuddered. I’d been holding myself together for four hours, and the feel of his skin sent the tears spilling down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them, and I didn’t care enough to try. I choked out, “You scared me.”
“Scared myself a little.” His gaze dropped to my shirt. To the blood. His thumb traced across my knuckles. “What are you still doing here?”
“Are you kidding?”
“You should have gone back to the hotel. Arthur and the Pendragon?—”
“Garrett.” I tightened my grip. “There is no way I am leaving this hospital without you.”
He went quiet, his gaze staying on our joined hands, where he continued stroking my knuckles.
I leaned a hip against the bed, and he inched over enough for me to sit on the edge.
“Grace.” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “This may be the drugs talking, but I think I figured something out. I’ve had shitty luck with love.”
A tiny laugh bubbled up from my chest. He’d had shitty luck with more than just love.
“I thought you’d be the same. I thought caring about you would get me hurt.”
“It did,” I whispered.
“Only my body.” He shook his head and closed his eyes for a long moment. “That part heals faster.”
I leaned down to kiss his knuckles. Hopefully he was right about that part.
“When Richter took you?—”
“You’re supposed to rest, not spend all night talking.” I wiped my eyes with the back of my free hand.
“You’re rubbing off on me.” He squeezed my hand. “What I mean to say is… I’m not so sure anymore that it’s just brain chemistry.”
Me neither.
I pressed a kiss to his lips. Carefully, gently, because he had a hole in his shoulder, his heart had nearly stopped twice, andI wouldnotbe the reason it happened a third time. But instead of letting me get away with a gentle peck, he put a hand on the back of my head and held me in place, while the monitor began beeping faster.
When I pulled back, his eyes were heavy. The exhaustion and the drugs were dragging him under. “I was going to say before Caulfield showed up… I’m thinking about staying.”
My breath caught. “In Prague?”
He smiled. A real one—slow, drowsy, and beautiful. “Taking the job Arthur’s harassing me about.”
For real? Or was it the drugs talking? Was he going to stay in Brenton?
There were too many questions, and he wasn’t in any condition to answer all of them. So I tucked them away and pressed my forehead against his. “Go to sleep, Garrett. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Chapter 40
