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I blink, trying to process what’s happening. I’m not supposed to be here. Where am I supposed to be?
Realization dawns on me, bringing clarity, and the pain of living past her is worse than the bullet wounds. “Asshole. Why didn’t you let me die?”
“Let you fucking die? Let. You. Die!” He stumbles back a step, rubbing his palms over his face before raking them through his hair, pulling on the ends. “How can you ask that?”
“I’m supposed to be with her. Let me go.” My voice cracks around the words, more plea than statement.
Matthias searches my face, then huffs out a breath. “I don’t think she’d like that.”
“What?” My brows pull together, trying to process what he just said.
“Quiet, or you’ll wake her.” Bash comes into the room, holding two coffees.
Wake her? Wake who? I’m still fuzzy from whatever painkiller they have me on, but there’s a dangerous hope bubbling in my chest. I force my head to turn, and my ribs constrict around my chest, my heart aching. Lavender fills my vision…Misty. She’s asleep on a bed, pressed against mine. Her small hand reaches toward me even in her dreams.
She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.
How is it possible? I watched her die.
My eyes burn, and tears overflow as I take her in. She’s bruised, and her skin has a pale yellow tint, but she’s here.
Pain radiates through my shoulder, but nothing can stop me from tucking the stray pieces of hair behind her ear. I never thought I’d be able to do it again.
Her lids slip open, and her stunning green gaze meets mine, a faint smile on her lips. “Welcome back.”
Chapter 56
Misty
Damon’s staring at me with soft gray eyes when I look up from my phone. “When did you wake up?”
“A few minutes ago. What time is it?” he asks, voice groggy. It’s been a rough few days, but now that we’re closing in on a week at the hospital, we’re mostly on the mend. The hospital staff were not happy about us both staying in the same room, beds pressed against each other, but considering Damon donated enough money to fund a new wing, they stayed quiet about it.
“Ten.” I roll to my good side and brush a stray strand of hair off Damon’s face, revealing the impression from his pillow on his cheek. I can’t help but smile.
“What?” He lifts my injured hand, wrapped in a fluorescent green cast, and kisses my knuckles.
“I just can’t get over how adorable you are—” I say, laughing as he lifts me toward him, careful not to hurt either of us, and adjusts me on his bed beside him.
He buries his nose into my neck, stubble scrapping the delicate skin, and his voice rumbles against me. “Adorable, am I?”
“Would you prefer burly? Mean? Scary?”
He raises an unimpressed brow.
“How about gorgeous, hot, sexy?”
He kisses along my jaw before resting his forehead on mine. “We need to get out of this hospital, or the nurses are going to get a show when I fuck you right here.”
I laugh. “I don’t know if you realized this, but you have several gunshot wounds healing right now.” I trace fingers over the gauze wrapped around his shoulder where a bullet had pierced clean through. He’d been lucky. The tactical vest he’d been wearing blocked the shot that should have pierced his heart, leaving him with a six-inch bruise over his chest, but it did nothing to stop the next one from embedding itself into his thigh.
His expression grows serious. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” And it’s not a lie. Turns out the location of my gunshot wound isn’t that painful once the initial hole scabbed over. Something about how internal organs don’t signal pain the same way. Or…they’ve just given me really good painkillers.
I huff out a breath. “Still probably too strenuous to have sex yet.”
A crooked smile twists his lips. “You don’t have to move?—”
