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Tracing over the shoulder to her neck, my fingertips met hair. It started at her shoulder, so she must have shorter hair. Wonder what color it was. Sure felt silky. Didn’t detect any curl to it. I bet it was shiny.
Moving onward, I brushed my fingers over her face and felt strands of hair there as well. Pushing them off her face, a feeling of familiarity hammered into me. She’d done this to me, while reading. Or talking. Maybe it was a movie I heard in the background of this memory, but it was something.
I thought I’d been dreaming or hallucinating. She’d sat here with me so often, and for so long, touching me and talking to me. Taking in a deep breath, I savored her scent, appreciating Blow Pops that much more.
So, she had anxiety issues. That was interesting. Wonder what brought on the attack? I rested my hand on her forehead and held my breath, listening. Hustle and bustle outside the door trickled in. Beeps. Muffled talking. Footsteps. There was a slight pause in the creak of some shoes outside my door. I turned around, keeping my hand on Lizzie, and squinted my eyes.
Not that it’d help me see, but…
“Damon?” Sarah asked as the door creaked open. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Practicing. We good?”
More shuffling and squeaking shoes came into the room. “I’ll take some vitals. She okay in your bed for a second?” a guy asked.
“What’s your name?”
“Ray. Nurse. Gonna check her vitals again.”
“How were you looking at the door when I came in?” Sarah asked.
“Heard someone coming.” I turned to Lizzie. “What’s going on with this little firecracker?”
“Everything’s checking out,” Ray said. “You said this has happened before?”
“Yeah,” Sarah said. “She’ll be okay in a little bit.”
A few seconds later, the door clicked shut, and Sarah let out a long breath. The subtle squeak of her shoes told me she was moving to the other side of the bed. I looked in that direction, wishing to hell I could see her. If I remembered correctly, Sarah had green eyes and was about five-foot-eight.
“You’ve seen this before?” I asked.
Silence passed, and for a second I thought she’d left, but I didn’t hear her move.
“Sarah?”
“Oh, shit. Sorry. I nodded my head.” She cleared her throat. “Yes. I’ve seen this with her. A few times. She’s been living in Hunter’s old apartment next to Angelina for a while; we hang every now and then.”
If only I could see her. If she looked half as good as she smelled…
“Your therapy is going well, yeah?” Sarah asked.
“Occupational therapy, physical therapy, you name it. Everyone’s all up in my business. When am I getting out of here?”
“Not sure.”
“Can’t you pull some strings or something? All these therapists are saying I’m doing surprisingly well gaining my strength back. You gotta help me out, Sarah. I’m going nuts in here.”
“Talk to Drey.”
I huffed. Drey had told me, like seventy times, that I had to ride out the therapy and he needed time to get their guesthouse ready for me. I couldn’t believe my brother had a guesthouse. Evidently the reward for nailing that psycho pimp who was after Sarah had really paid off.
“I have to get to work,” Sarah said. “You good here?”
“No. But looks like I have to stay.”
Bullshit. I was going to find a way out of here pronto. Sick to death of this crappy food. Then again, where would I go if not Drey’s place?
“Does Lizzie need to be somewhere? Does she work?” I had so much to figure out about her.
