Before I can grab my food, she responds, leaning close enough that I can smell the coconut on her skin over the overpowering scents of the buffet.
“I get that you’re hurting, but don’t take it out on me. I know what it’s like to stand idly by, hoping someone will pull through or come back. Jesus. I’m not babysitting you. I was trying to be a friend. You seemed like you needed one.” With that, she pulls away, drops her stare, taps the table with her knuckles, and grabs her plate to leave.
“Pres, wait,” I plead, regret filling my voice.
“No,” she raises her hand to stop my advance. “It’s fine. Have a good day, Keith,” she finishes with a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. And fuck, if I don’t hate the sound of my name coming out of her mouth, and I wish with everything in me, she’d have said something snarky, some quip, or unexplained nickname. Hearing her speak to me like a stranger felt a million times worse than her words to Ryder.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I finish gathering my stuff and sulk back to my workstation, hoping Pres will pop in later, but I spend the rest of the day alone. This must be what purgatory feels like.
Lonely and numb.
Chapter 26
Cain
Thirty-onehoursandeighteenminutes since they completed her four-hour surgery. Still no change.
Every minute she lies there, not waking up, part of me slips further into the darkness. I never imagined a result where she wasn’t okay. It never crossed my mind because I knew. I knew I could save her, yet here I am, helplessly staring at camera footage of her hospital room from the computer in my office.
Keith sits adjacent to her, talking occasionally, spitting out a random fact about surgery recovery rates for brain bleeds, fifty percent, or the number of people who have brain surgery yearly, about fourteen thousand in the US alone.
The stupid shit this guy knows seems endless, and yet I watch her, hoping for a response to the nonsense.
For almost every minute of that thirty-one hours, it’s been me in that chair. Talking to her, begging her, hell, I even prayed to the Fates that she’d be ok.
No change.
Jake brought me food, which sat uneaten time and time again. Dr. Radolf would come to do his rounds every few hours, and I’d take those visits to use the restroom before hurrying back to hear his updates. The pity in his eyes each time he told me, ‘everything looks good. It’s just a matter of time,’ tore my heart apart.
She’s in there. Her body’s healing. Why won’t she wake up?
I was spinning. My mind taking a dark path toward wanting to join her and knowing if she didn’t recover, I wouldn’t either. I knew without a doubt that I couldn’t exist in a world without her. A world shrouded in darkness with no visible light. She’s my light. My Firefly. My purpose. Nothing can fill the void her absence has created. Nothing ever will.
I was starting to lose myself, giving up on any type of future. After refusing to go back to my apartment to sleep, Pres and Dante cornered me, forcing me to see reason. I needed a shower, to brush my teeth, to change clothes, and to show me that I wasn’t the only one in pain.
They told me Keith needed to see her. To know she was okay. Frankly, I didn’t give a fuck what Keith needed. I didn’t want to leave her. But knowing she’d have a face she knew and trusted if she woke while I was gone gave me the push to leave. Well, that, and Dante's threat about throwing me into a holding cell if I refused his order.
I agreed to thirty minutes the following day. Time for me to crash through the basics while still being able to see her.
If she wakes up while I’m gone, I’ll never forgive myself.
One positive that’s come out of this wait was finding out her scent hadn’t changed. Deacon’s attempt at Awakening her hadn’t worked. Either he didn’t have time to inject the venom, or not enough got into her bloodstream to complete the change.
Small wins.
The downside is that had he Awakened her, her wolf would’ve been helping her heal, and she may have already been awake. The thought of Awakening her myself has crossed my mind more than once, just to get her through this. But I know deep down she’d want to make the choice. Who does it, how it’s done, and when, should all be in her control.
My wolf doesn’t wholly agree with that mentality. Seeing her lay there without her spark has him challenging me. He’s more the ask-for-forgiveness type, but unfortunately, we already have a lot of apologies to dole out when she wakes up, so I don’t intend to add any more.
The alarm on my phone beeps, indicating his thirty minutes with her is up, and I’m moving before I even get it cleared. I open the surveillance on my phone to continue monitoring her as I make my way from my office to her room, eager to be next to her again. I followed every rule I was given. Showered - check. Brushed teeth and shaved - check. Change clothes - check. Give Keith his time - check. Now it was back to her.
Keeping my phone in my hand, I jog down the stairs to the medical floor, landing just as Pres walks Keith from the room. Her eyes flash to me before she turns him toward the elevator on the opposite end of the building.
The moment I enter her room, relief fills me. She’s still out, lying peacefully beneath the covers with machines beeping as her chest rises and falls. Walking to her bedside, I slide my knuckles gently over her cheek. I didn’t realize how much being near her helped calm my nerves and keep my wolf at bay.
“I’m back, Firefly. You can wake up now,” I say for the hundredth time since she came into this room. Stepping back, I move the chair Keith was sitting in back flush with the bed, so I can hold her hand while I sit. I continue talking, not knowing if she can hear me or process anything, but wanting her to know I’m here all the same.