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“We got it,” he breathes, his smile widening. My eyes widen in shock as the organ in my chest skips a beat and then another. For a second, I think it will quit on me all together. I suck in a sharp breath as Rohan nods excitedly. “The money you sent funded the paperwork and government drabble, allowing Jorgensen’s team to finish the last steps of the required process. The final tests were completed yesterday. We’re ready to begin the new drug.”
It takes me a moment to process his words, and when I do, my knees go weak.This.This is what I’ve been working so hard for. What we all have been working for, workingtoward. This drug, this medication, that will save so many fucking lives. Restore so many minds. Reunite so many families and loved ones. It’s hope.Remény.Hope is how this whole thing started, and now, we finally have some.
“When will you begin?” I ask, surprised by how choked up my voice is. I cough, clearing my throat. Rohan is now openly crying, though, he’s trying to wipe his tears away before I see them.
He takes a few seconds to compose himself before answering. “Within the month. We’re going to start contacting patients that meet the criteria next week.”
“That soon?” I ask, surprised that things are moving so quickly. He nods as we continue on our way to Room 82. With the news he just shared, I find myself more excited to enter it than I’ve been in a long time. The underlying feeling of dread still pools in my stomach, but I’m able to ignore it, focusing on the positive. “How has she been?” I ask quietly, stopping outside her door.
The nerves kick in as the room number comes into view. I disregard the small window in the large white door, knowing nothing good comes from peaking in before I’m ready to step inside. Rohan shifts nervously, his previous excitement now completely gone.
He clears his throat and looks away.Bad news, then. I stand taller, fisting my hands inside my pockets, preparing for the worst. It’s been a long time coming, so it’s not unexpected. “Not great,” he starts, his hands twitching nervously at his sides. He inhales deeply and releases a heavy breath before meeting my gaze. “It will be soon, Wolfe. You need to prepare yourself.”
“How long?” I ask immediately, needing to know.
He nods once, seeing the resolve on my face. His hand moves toward me, and I already know he wants to comfort me as he speaks. I step back, hoping not to offend him but really, I don’t give a fuck right now. He nods again, sliding his hand into his lab coat. “Two weeks, maybe four at most. She’s completely unaware. No new moments of lucidity. Her vitals are stable at the moment, but she’s been fighting a new infection.”
The heart that had just started to learn how to work again squeezes painfully. The soul that had just recently shown itself for the first time in my life flickers a few times as though it’s trying to wink out of existence once more. Every muscle in my body wants to turn around and bolt. Every joint is locked in a vain attempt at keeping me upright. My mind is somehow both screaming and silent.
Every piece of me is at war.
But I ignore it. I do what I do best, and I shove my newfound emotions way down deep where they belong. I cut off the person whofeelsand become the beast who simplyexists.
I smile thanking Rohan, and turn away. My hand hits the doorknob, and before I can follow through on my need to run, I step inside Room 82.
The monitors greet me first. The beeping. The quiet whir from the oxygen pump. And then, her labored breathing. Her heavy sighs behind the mask that helps her breathe. Then there are the sounds that I know aren’t real. The rustling of sheets. Her angelic, sweet laughter. The soap operas she loves to watch playing the in the background. Her yelling at me over fucking up, yet again. The blender grinding and screeching in the kitchen as she makes a round of special ‘peace-peach milkshakes’ to soften the grounding she’s about to dole out.
Those are the sounds I long to hear. When it’s silent in my vast, empty home, I miss hers. When I’m tucked away, hiding from the world in my office, I find myself wishing,begging,for the phone to ring. For just one more conversation. One more argument. One more reminder that I’m not the piece of shit my brain thinks I am. One more..always just one more.
Exhaling a shaking breath, I take a seat in the chair I’ve sat at every Saturday for as long as I can remember, and look down at the sleeping woman who saved me.
Katarina Farkas.Kat. A Hungarian widow who took me in as a baby, purely for the fact that she could and I needed a home. She raised me, gave me everything, and then got sick before I could repay the favor. For the majority of my life, Kat was all I had in the world. She was my mother. My friend. My angel. My namesake. I smile at the thought.
When I came to her, I was nameless. My parents couldn't be bothered to give their own child a name, or maybe they were just too high to remember it when the police had asked. Kat said I came to her snapping and snarling, even as a baby. She named me Wolfe, after not only mybeastly behaviorbut as the direct English definition of her last name.
Eventually, I changed my last name to Nash, but I grew up Wolfe Wolf. Which is actually funny, considering I was way more prey than predator for most of my life.
Until now. Now, I’m the beast in the night, hunting my sweet prey.
I smile, thinking of Rayvn, and decide to start there today. “I met a woman,” I say softly, squeezing her too-still hand. “She’s beautiful, and yes, before you say it, I know. There is more to a woman than her looks. She’s perfect. Sweet, fiery. A fighter. She’s got this darkness inside of her that calls to me. It’s like, I knew from the moment I saw her that she could handle me. She wouldn't balk or run at my sharp edges.”
I sit, giving her a moment to process that. She doesn't respond. She never does, but that doesn't mean I need to treat her like she's dead. She’s not. She’s just…resting. Or, so I like to tell myself. It helps me get through these awkward, one-sided conversations.
“Her name is Rayvn Porter. She’s an attorney from Denver. We met in–” I break off, cringing. Do I tell her? If she could hear me, would she judge me? “We met under odd circumstances. I was hired to do a job that involved her. I tried. I really did, but she captivated me. She claimed me, and I can’t give her back, Kat, but once she finds out who I am and how she came into my life, she’ll hate me.”
Emotions well up inside me swiftly and suddenly I just feel exhausted. It’s the kind of tired that aches deep in your bones. I feel like that lost little kid again, begging for his mommy and asking why he’s unlovable. It throbs and thrums deep in my chest like a festering wound. It’s maddening. But, once again, I find myself holding Kat’s hand and asking her for answers she can’t give me.
“Honestly, I don’t know what to do. I feel lost. I think I really care about her, Kat. Maybe even more. I have this need, thisurgeto give her the world. To be anything and everything she wants. I just want to make her happy, but I can’t do that if everything she knows about me is a lie.”
Then tell her who you are,Kat would say.I swear I can almost hear her scoff at me as she demands my honesty.
“I know,” I groan, dropping my head in defeat. “It’s not that easy.”
Of course, it is. Just open your mouth, boy.
“She’s never even seen my face, Kat. I fucked up. I pretended to be someone I wasn't a few months ago. It was the first time we met, and I fucking blew it. So now, I’ve been hiding away like a coward,”
Watch your mouth.I roll my eyes.It’s never too late for honesty, Wolfe. Do something grand for her. A gesture. Tell her how you feel. Be direct. Something that can’t be misconstrued. The only time you can’t fix a mistake is when you’re dead..
