Page 34 of Tainted Wings of Failure

"Yeah," Kyle nods. "Even though it wasn't as bad as this…but we'll make up and be back to normal in no time."

"Are you sure?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"Yes," he says. "Don't worry about it. You've got so much on your plate right now, don't worry about the what ifs for when he wakes up." I nod and turn my attention back to the TV.

Kyle is right. The state of their relationship is not something I should worry about. None of that matters to me. What matters is Noah and his well-being, and if anything, what happens to our relationship in the future.

Chapter 21

Noah

Where am I?

My head is throbbing in agony with every beat of my heart as it pumps the blood through my veins. A groggy haze clouds my brain, my thoughts are scattered, like pieces of a puzzle spread throughout a dark room. Slowly, sensations start to trickle in, like a dull throbbing in my limbs. I curl my fingers into a loose fist, feeling the strain of unused muscles protesting the movement. When I try to move, a sharp, suffocating pain shoots through my entire body from head to toe, like a thousand needles piercing my flesh. Every muscle screams in agony, every bone feels shattered. Slowly but surely, the buzzing mixture of pain and dizziness begins to calm. The dark fog clouding my brain dissolves, clearing the way for a coherent thought.

I’m not dead.

My chest tightens, my heartbeat quickens, and my adrenaline rises. I still have a chance. I try to move again, gritting my teeth and stifling a groan as I prop my elbows against the soft surface beneath me that gives in to my weight. Stretching my fingers, I feel the cool, soft sheets beneath my fingertips. Wait. I'm no longer lying on a concrete floor. I'm no longer tied to a chair. I'm in a bed.

I open my eyes, but all that's there is darkness. As I concentrate on my surroundings, I notice the smell for the first time. It's not the wet, moldy concrete mixed with the stench of my fluids. No, the soothing aroma of lavender and a hint of extinguished firewood fills my lungs. It smells just like our bedroom on a cozy autumn night when we light a fire and watch one of her sappy movies. Is my brain playing tricks on me?

I have to go home.

I have to see Evelyn.

With another groan, I fight through the pain, place my hands flat on the mattress and push myself up. Once I'm in a sitting position, I feel for the edge of the bed and when I find it, I shift over. But before I can get up, a light flickers on behind me, illuminating the dark room. "Noah!" I freeze at the soft but muffled voice of my Dove.

I turn my attention to the light behind me and a blurry figure moves in my direction, reaching for me. A warm hand lands on my forehead, pushing my hair out of my face.

"Dove?" I hardly manage to say her name before the dryness in my throat triggers a cough.

"Yes, it's me, you're home," she says and cups my cheeks in her hands, gently running her thumb over and scratching the stubbles of my beard. Raising my own hands, I cup her face with my palms and trace her smooth skin, following the contours of her face, and like muscle memory, I recognize the way my finger moves over the curve of her cheek to her eyes and forehead. It’s really my Dove. Forcing myself to focus, my vision clears; it's not perfect, but I can make out some details of her facial features, like her beautiful brown eyes and full lips.

She tilts her head into my touch and a second later, warm little droplets run down my fingers, followed by her soft sniffle. "I'm sorry Dove…" I manage to say with a trembling voice.

"You fucking idiot!" she yells between sobs. Throwing her arms around my shoulders, her body slams into mine, knocking me off balance and forcing me back into the soft padding of our bed. A painful groan pushes the air out of my lungs as she lands on top of me.

I wrap my arms around her, placing one hand on her back and the other on the back of her head as she cries into my chest.

"I told you it wasn't safe!" she chokes out, her tears soaking into the fabric of my shirt.

"I know. I fucked up," I admit, holding her close. My chest tightens as another dry cough forces its way out of my throat.

"Yes, you did!" Her fist slams into my chest, drawing a gasp from me that sends me into yet another coughing fit. Immediately, she pulls back, propping herself up on her hands and watches me through teary eyes as I struggle to regain my composure.

"How are you feeling?" She kneels down beside me, dabbing at her tears with the sleeve of her robe.

"Like shit…everything hurts, especially my head." I close my eyes as she puts her hand on my forehead. Her touch, soothing against my heated skin.

"Do you want me to give you more pain meds?"

I open my eyes again, look at her and nod slowly. Immediately she turns away from me and scoots over to her side of the bed to grab something from her nightstand. A rush of panic swells in my chest, my pulse quickening, and instinctively I reach for her nightgown, clutching at the smooth fabric. "Please don't leave me," I whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere," she says, turning around and crawling over to me. Then she sits down and takes the small auto-injector out of its plastic wrapper.

"What's that?" I ask, watching as she takes off the cap and pushes my shirt up high enough to expose my stomach.

"Premeasured doses of morphine." She places the injector against my skin. "It may pinch a little," she says and presses the back of the small stick, and while I hear the click of the needle popping, I don't feel it piercing my skin as the pain dominates every single nerve in my system.

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