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I squeezed his fingers.
No response.
His eyelids didn’t flutter. His lips didn’t part. The heart rate monitor continued its beep, beep, beep.
I sighed and rested my forehead on the back of his hand, careful not to bump the IV. “I miss you, Sully.” I swallowed back tears, sick to death of crying. “I’m so afraid.” My mind raced with so many things to say.
Threats to force him to wake up and know me.
Pleas for him to stay alive, even if he never knew my name.
“I’m sorry for being so mad. I’m sorry for losing you. I’m sorry that you had to come save me. But please…you have to wake up. Give me the chance to save you back.” I kissed his knuckles. “Don’t you miss your islands? Don’t you want to go home? If you open your eyes, we can go. We can return to Pika and Skittles, and you can get better on the beach.”
I sucked in a shaky breath. “I don’t like it here, Sully. It’s cold, and it’s snowing, and the sun is all wrong.” I glanced out the window where silver snow gleamed beneath the moon. The hospital grounds were expansive. Large gardens for patients to rehab and quaint flowerbeds to bring joy, but the air was dense with population, the scents of society strong, and the overall hum of humans in a congested city put me on edge.
I missed Goddess Isles.
I missed Skittles and Pika.
I missed Jealousy and sand and sun and—
A shrill ring broke apart my self-pity.
I jerked upright, glaring at the cell phone Mrs. Bixel had brought from the manor. Sully’s phone that he’d left on the bedside table. A phone I’d tried to unlock but had no success.
It rang again, flashing with an international number.
Swiping it from the small cabinet, I accepted the call before the person hung up. “Hello?”
“Eh, hi…Jinx? I mean…Eleanor?”
I slouched over Sully’s arm, wedging my elbows into the bed. “Dr Campbell.” Tears sprang anew. Damn blasted unwanted fucking tears.
I sniffed, doing my best to stay in control.
“What’s happened? Where’s Sinclair?”
I glanced at the man in question. I studied his slack mouth and the oxygen tubes stuck beneath his nose. I tried to convince myself that he was just sleeping. That at any moment he’d wake, and the brilliance of his blue gaze would sparkle with seduction, and everything would be better.
But the vision of Sully opening his eyes didn’t feel possible. Not here. Not while we were stuck in this snowy city with prodding nurses. Not while we were alone with no friends or familiarity.
He needs to go home.
He needs his islands.
He needs peace.
Sitting straight, I swiped at my tears and spoke with renewed vigour. I had a purpose now. A goal. I could do something. Something that might benefit Sully and reverse the horror that he might have brain damage or be gone. “Sully had a heart attack. He’s currently in a hospital in Geneva. I don’t know the name or the address. All I know is, he needs to go home. I need your help, Dr Campbell. Can you arrange medical transport to get him back to his islands? Can you speak to the doctors in charge here and find out if it’s safe to move him?”
A long pause before he asked, “Travel over that distance is not advised for patients who have suffered such traumatic events. I did warn him that Tritec-87 would demand pain in the end.” He cleared his throat. “But you said hospital not morgue, so he’s still alive?”
“Yes, but he’s—”
“Put him on the phone. I’ll discuss the pros and cons—”
“He’s not awake.” I buried my hand in my unwashed hair. “He hasn’t moved since he collapsed three days ago.” My voice wavered, and once again, I had a terrible premonition. A foreboding worriment that filled my heart with truth.
He won’t heal here.
He’ll die here.
“You need to do whatever it takes to get him back home. I’m not asking.”
Dr Campbell cleared his throat again. “If we move him while he’s unstable, you run the risk of losing him.”
“I know.”
“He’s in good hands in Geneva. I know the head of paediatrics. The hospital is well funded and not afraid of progress.”
“I agree they’ve been great, and they brought Sully back when he crashed the second time, but…this isn’t his home, Dr Campbell. Call me stupid and that a hunch is lunacy when faced with logistics of such a request, but I’m telling you…he needs to be back on his island. He needs to hear Nirvana. He needs Pika.” I rubbed my eyes, doing my best not to sound crazy or strung out. “He needs a reason to fight. He needs to remember who he is, before it’s too late.”
He stayed silent for so long, I feared the call had dropped out.
Finally, he muttered, “I won’t say he deserves this as he’s paid for his crimes, but this is the last favour I can do. After this, I’m officially retiring.”
