Page 134 of Diamond Kisses

She lay as still as she had on Victor’s lawn. Her hair smooth and gathered in a loose ponytail over the pillow. Her collarless neck bound in thick bandages and her chest swaddled with yet more white protection. Thick eyelashes stenciled her cheeks, while an oxygen tube fed air into her nose.

I went ice cold as I studied her mouth. How her perfect lips spread around another tube going down her throat.

Jesus Christ.

Struggling to my feet, I collapsed beside her on the bed and cupped her cheek. The oxygen tube burned my fingers. I wanted to rip it out of her and breathe directly into her lungs. “Fuck, little nightmare.” I couldn’t catch a proper inhale. Panic crushed my ribs. “Please,mon cœur.Pleaseopen your eyes.”

Nothing.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Never again. You’re safe now. I promise. Please, Ily…pleaseopen your eyes.”

Not a twitch.

My breath turned thin and fast.

The room spun.

Fear crashed through every organ.

“Ily…c-can you hear me?”

“Those who wake from a coma say they can hear, so yes, I’d say she can.”

My gaze snapped to the left. A short slim man with grey hair and wire rimmed glasses sat in a pewter upholstered chair. The side table beside him held vials and syringes, bandages and boxes. Following my stare, he said softly, “My travelling hospital supplies.” Standing, he came toward us, his white coat pristine. “I will leave you two alone, but first, I will answer any questions you have, so you don’t hyperventilate and have to be triaged yourself.”

Trembling, I clung to Ily’s lifeless hand.

Her other one lay on the sheets, pierced with a needle and hooked up to an IV.

She looked so weak.

So tired.

Struggling to get a grip on my runaway panic, I swallowed hard. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”

The doctor shot Q a look as my brother pulled the door closed, giving us privacy. “Alright then.” Pulling out a small tablet from his white jacket pocket, he said, “She lost a lot of blood. If it wasn’t for the quick thinking of a Dr Melanie Belford and the selfless donation by a Rachel Moran, I doubt she would’ve survived the helicopter flight to my surgery.” Reading the notes, he continued, “Ordinarily, we don’t allow pregnant women to donate blood due to the risk of the foetus, but she was the only one who knew her blood type and most likely the only one who had O-negative blood, which makes her a universal donor. Thanks to vein-to-vein transmission, Ms Sharma was kept alive long enough to be transported here.”

He paused and pushed up his glasses. “Do you wish me to continue?”

“Yes—” My voice broke. I cleared my throat and nodded. “Go on.”

“A bullet was lodged in her sternum.”

“Ah, Christ.” I doubled over; the room flipped upside down. My chest fissured with absolute despair.

“Easy does it.” The doctor patted my shoulder, easing me backward so I didn’t fall off the bed. “There, there.” Clucking his tongue, he added, “Perhaps we’ll go over the rest another day—”

“No.” I sat taller and braced every shaking muscle I could. “Continue.”

He eyed me but slowly nodded. “The bullet formed a small wound but didn’t shatter the bone, nor did it go any farther.”

“What?” I blinked. “How…how is that possible?”

He consulted his notes again. “I believe someone else took the full brunt of the bullet’s speed. Her condition was caused from blood loss thanks to a nasty cut on her neck, not the actual gunshot. She bled out slowly from the wound but was lucky enough not to have the jugular severed.”

Peter.

I almost fell off the bed again as I pinched the bridge of my nose and willed myself to stay conscious.

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