AllFreeNovel
Share Us
From further away came a faint shout that I wasn’t sure was real or just part of my imagination, but I couldn’t quite find it in myself to care.
Garrett’s frantic hands on my shoulders were strangely comforting, and I let myself drift.
21
“Camilla.” The voice was low and velvety smooth, and I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it. “C’mon sweetheart, you’re okay. You can wake up.”
But I didn’t want to, not if it meant whoever owned that beautiful voice would stop talking to me. Besides, he’d called me sweetheart. No one called me that. So, it must be a dream. In which case I definitely didn’t want to wake up. I screwed my eyelids shut tighter and willed myself to return to sleep.
The low voice chuckled. “I know you’re awake, sweetheart. Open your eyes. I need to see that you’re okay.”
Shit. The voice was on to me. I cracked one eye open. What the hell was going on?
“That’s right. Hey there.”
Micah’s face filled my vision, and in a rush it all flooded back. The lake, the freezing water—
“Garrett,” I gasped, shooting up, but a warm hand pushed me firmly down.
“Hey now, none of that. You need to keep still. Garrett’s fine. Devan’s with him.”
“You need to take him to the infirmary. He hit his head, he was unconscious, I—am I naked?”
Oh my God, I was. And I was in an unfamiliar bed.
He chuckled and moved to sit gingerly on the edge of the bed, where he fixed me with a steady gaze.
“Okay, here’s the short version, since I can tell you’re not going to calm down ’til you know what’s going on. Devan got your call and we found you guys by the shore. We got you both up to the room. Garrett cut his head, yes, but he’s going to be fine. You will, too. I’m sorry you’re naked; I had to get you out of your wet clothes to warm you up.” His patient look turned to a frown. “Honestly, you were half naked to start with. What the hell were you thinking, going outside in pajamas in the first place?”
“I was wearing a coat,” I mumbled, shooting him a defensive glance. “I didn’t realize I was going to be swimming. I—”
Oh my God. My coat. My parents’ letter.
I surged upright again, choking on a gasp.
Micah’s hand flew out, stopping any further movement as efficiently as an iron bar.
“Stop.” The steel in his voice made me pause, but only for a second.
“You don’t understand. I have to go back out there,” I pleaded, struggling ineffectively against him. “I had a letter. It was with my phone—I never put it back in my pocket—it might still be on the rock. I can’t lose it. I can’t.”
“Hey, hey calm down,” Micah said in a soothing voice, his hand still clamped around my arm. “You have to stay here, lying down. I’ve got you warmed up, but you’re still at risk.”
“I feel fine,” I insisted.
“It doesn’t matter,” he told me firmly, pushing at my arm until I collapsed against the pillow. “You were submerged in cold water; you’re at risk for circum-rescue collapse. You need to stay in bed until I tell you it’s okay to get up.”
“What?”
“It means you could pass out or go into cardiac arrest.”
I stared at him. “What are you, a doctor?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly, what does that m—never mind. It doesn’t matter. I have to go back for that letter.” I shook my head, feeling my breathing speed up. “I have to.”
“You—” he started.
