Page 105 of Falling for Her

I don’t say anything. I just look out the window and wait for the plane to take off.

Only when we land and we are ushered into a waiting car do I start to breathe a bit.

Thanks to Collins, who goes straight to the nurses’ station when we get to the hospital, we’re able to talk to the doctor on duty right away.

“We had to put her in a medically induced coma,” he tells us. “Because of the swelling of her brain.”

It’s right then and there that I know, without another second, I’m not leaving without her. “I want to see her.”

“I’m sorry, you can’t do that,” he states. “It’s family only.”

“I’m her family.” I step forward. “I’m going to marry her.” A gasp comes out of Collins. “Now, the only way I’m not going in there is if I’m in cuffs.”

I’m prepared for anything with my line of work. I’ve seen everything I think I could see. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could prepare me for seeing the woman I love lying in a bed, her face beaten, and her eyes sealed shut.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

FINLEY

“I’m Dr. Reeves.” I try to open my eyes, but they are just too heavy. “I heard you had some questions.”

“I do.” I know it’s not Lincoln talking. It’s my mind playing tricks on me. A dirty, dirty trick. Even so, I want to hear it, hear his voice, even though it’s not real. But my body has other plans. Because right when I hear him say, “Why . . .” I slip into the darkness again.

There’s a machine beeping, becoming louder and louder. I try to open my eyes. I take a deep breath and conjure up all my strength to open them.

One flicks open, and the other one finally eases open just a bit. The room is dim, and just the light from the door is coming in softly. My mouth is so dry it’s hard to swallow. My throat feels like it’s raw from screaming, even though I don’t remember screaming. I want to lift my hand to touch my face, but my body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.

I close my eyes, and then I open them again, this time more. I move one finger, then try another, slowly getting my limbs to work with my head. I turn to the side, and I see Lincoln standing there, gazing out of the window in the corner. He’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, and I wonder if I want him here so bad that my eyes are putting him here, playing tricks like my mind did. He leans against the wall, his legs crossing at the ankles.

“Lincoln,” I whisper.

His head whips around, his eyes on me as if he heard a ghost. “Finley.” He takes two steps toward me as I close my eyes for just a second.

“Water,” I mumble.

He rushes to the door and yells, “She’s awake!” He comes back to my side and carefully takes my hand in his. The heat from his touch feels like it’s going into my body.

“Finley.” He bends and kisses my lips so softly. “You’re awake.” He puts his forehead on mine, and I feel his tears hit my face. “The longest three days of my fucking life,” he confesses. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Okay,” I croak and close my eyes. I want to kiss him, but I have zero strength to do anything right now.

“Hello.” The soft voice of a woman fills the room. “Look who decided to wake up.” Lincoln moves away from my face but not my side. “We’ve been waiting for you,” the nurse whispers. “Well, he has.” She motions to Lincoln, and all I can do is stare at him. “He’s had everyone on their toes.” She checks my vitals. “I’ll call the doctors and let them know she’s awake.” She smiles and then looks at Lincoln, and it fades. “I’ll also let the authorities know.”

He nods and she starts to leave the room. “Can she have water?” he asks.

“Little sips,” she says, “for now.”

He walks over to the side table, pours water into a clear cup, and puts a straw in it before coming back and sitting on the side of the bed. “Little sips, baby,” he instructs softly, putting the plastic straw on my lips. The cool water hits my tongue, waking it up.

“Okay.” I move my mouth away from the straw.

“I was so scared,” he says, one hand coming to rest gently on my cheek. “So fucking scared I’d never see your eyes again.” He looks tired, as if he hasn’t slept in days. “So scared I would never get to . . .”

“I’m okay,” I murmur.

“You’re not fucking okay.” The anger flows out of him. “If they didn’t have that fucking piece of shit behind bars, I would⁠—”

I try to shake my head side to side, but it takes a full minute before it moves a little right and left. “It’s over. I need to tell you something.”