Page 110 of Jameson’s Salvation

I was so tired. Blackness pulled me under and I welcomed the peace.

* * *

“Turn off the alarm,” I mumbled, then winced. I felt like I’d swallowed rocks.

The annoying beeping continued and I reached over to shove Jameson. He insisted on sleeping on the side of the bed with the alarm clock, the least he could do was hit snooze.

“Jameson,” I grunted but my hand hit the mattress, not his chest.

Unusual, we never moved apart when we slept. He always held me close.

“Right here, baby.” His hand took mine and he squeezed.

“Why are you out of bed?”

“Kennedy, open your eyes, babe.”

“Sleep,” I grunted.

“Time to wake up.”

“I quit. No work today.”

I begrudgingly opened my eyes, but only so I could drink some water to soothe the desert in my throat. Then I was going back to bed. Screw work.

Jameson’s handsome face filled my blurry vision. But he wasn’t smiling.

“What’s wrong?”

Deep lines formed around his eyes and he stared at me with concern.

The beeping had faded into the background and awareness started to creep in. Something was wrong. My gaze flitted over his shoulder to the stark white walls and the smell of bleach filled my nostrils.

Where was I?

“Jameson?”

“Everything’s okay. You’re in the hospital.”

“Hospital?”

I tried to jerk to a sitting position but Jameson gently stopped my attempt.

Something foreign was in my nose. My hands went to my face and I tugged at plastic tubing.

“Oh, no. That stays in.”

So many scenarios assaulted my brain. Was I in a car accident? Nothing hurt but my chest and throat. So many questions, but I couldn’t begin to formulate a coherent thought. What was going on?

“Good, she’s awake.” That sounded eerily familiar.

It was like I was having a bad case of déjà vu.

Jameson moved to my side, revealing a tall, smiling nurse.

“Hi, Kennedy. I’m Shar. Let me turn the volume down on some of these machines.” The nurse walked around the bed and the beeping finally stopped. “Jameson here, insisted on the volume being up.”

I glanced back at Jameson and he shrugged his shoulders. Now that some of the fog had lifted and I could see him clearly, he looked terrible. Black circles marred his face. Worry lines etched deep. I tugged on his hand and he gave me a small, sad smile.