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“Great,” I say, clapping my palms together. I look from Knix to Seer, giving them each an encouraging smile while I also draw strength from the similar expressions of determination on their faces. “Let’s do this!”
* * *
Pocus
Her hands feel warm in mine…I’m glad about that, at least. Her hands had been so frighteningly cold in the first few days after Knix brought her back.
I tighten my hold on her hands, acknowledging the feeling of sadness and longing. I’ve always pushed away my feelings when in front of others. But it’s only us two now; Abigail and me. I don’t have to put on a show with her whenever I’m in this room. With her, I can be true to my fears and vulnerability. In this room, I’m no longer the president of an MC but a man who misses his woman like crazy. I’m just an ordinary man who’s scared and struggling under the weight of his guilt.
“It’s been eight days, mon coeur,” I say with a pained smile. “Eight days since you’ve closed your beautiful eyes to me. Wake up now. S’il te plait, ma chérie.” I stand from the chair and lower myself gingerly beside her unmoving body on the bed. “I thought you should know,” I say slowly. “We’ve finally found a way to make Anderson pay for all that he did; to you and all of those other girls. We call it The Grey Op.” I chuckle quietly and shake my head. “Sounds silly, right? Knix came up with the name, but Seer is refusing to acknowledge it. I kind of like it, though, even though I’ll never admit that to Knix. Anyway, The Gray Op starts in the morning.” I pause and trail my fingers gingerly over the beautiful curve of her face. I let the silence stretch for a little longer…it doesn’t bother me. I’m used to the peaceful silence that greets my rambling each time I talk to her. Apart from the fact that Graveyard mentioned that talking to her might help her come back to me faster, I really want and need to talk to her. It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t hear me. I plan on telling her every damn thing on my mind.
“I’m really sorry, Abigail,” I say finally. I raise our joint hands and rest my chin on them. “It’s my fault you’re laying there like this. I didn’t protect you or trust you enough. I promise to show you how much I love you from now on. I’ll tell you every day until the day my voice fails me. I love you, Abigail. I love you so much.”
“You can’t.”
I freeze in shock as I watch her lids slowly lift until her golden brown orbs are staring directly into mine. She’s looking at me…really looking at me.
“Abigail?” I whisper hoarsely, holding her hand tightly in both of mine. “You’re awake.”
It wasn’t a question…it was an immense relief and gratitude that hit me so suddenly that I didn’t know how to deal with it. I dropped my head onto our joint hands and let myself breathe for the first time in days.
“Let me go, Pocus.”
Her voice is cracked and barely above a whisper, but I hear her alright. I raise my head slowly, searching her eyes for the true meaning of her words. My chest clenches painfully at the emptiness in her eyes.
“Am I hurting you?” I ask, gesturing at our joint hands.
She swallows quietly. “No.”
“Would you like some water?”
“Yes, please.”
I hurry to the small kitchenette in the clinic and take a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I pick a glass cup from the cabinet and start to look around for a straw. Graveyard keeps a packet of straws around here somewhere.
“I shouldn’t be wasting time here like this,” I mutter to myself in frustration. It’s been two minutes of searching in vain. Maybe it’s my way of stalling the conversation that’s bound to happen between Abigail and me. I let out a heavy sigh and head back to her.
I quietly help her up, propping pillows behind her until she signals her comfort. I lower myself onto the bed beside her and hold the cup up to her mouth. She drinks slowly but steadily until there’s no water left in the cup. I smile softly at her. “Should I get some more?”
She shakes her head at me. “Thank you,” she mutters quietly and lowers her eyes. An uncomfortable silence settles between us. I can feel her drifting further away from me. I didn’t know there could be something so painful as watching her sleep day in and day out without an idea of when she would wake up. I realize now, as I wait for her to look at me again, the thought of being hated by her is as scary as the thought of losing her. I can’t deal with that either.
I take her right hand in both of mine and squeeze gently.
“Abigail,” I call softly. “Look at me. Please?” I don’t care about the tremor in my voice or that my desperation is seeping through. I really just want to know what’s going through her mind. Funny how I can almost read other people’s thoughts but with her, I see only the things she wants me to.
She slowly raises her eyes to mine. And this time, the void in her eyes has been replaced with guilt, shame, regret, and hurt. I see her anger, too – all the dark emotions I carried with me all my life. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her take on that baggage.
I tighten my hold on her hand, looking earnestly into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Abigail. Everything you went through was my fault. I didn’t protect you. I didn’t come after you soon enough. I’m so sorry.”
She smiles at me, and it suddenly feels like a stray bullet has somehow found my heart…this isn’t the Abigail I used to know. She’s lost somewhere between all of those confusing emotions I see whirling in her eyes. Her smile has lost its luster, and her eyes no longer shine with that merriment and joie de vivre that drew me to her. Whatever Anderson did to her…he’d succeeded in breaking her spirit.
“Abigail….”
She shakes her head to stop me. “Listen, Pocus… I can’t do this,” she says quietly, withdrawing her hand from mine.
“What?”
“Whatever it is between us.” She shakes her head and closes her eyes briefly as if to gather her thoughts. “Whatever we thought we shared…it was all a lie.”
