Page 118 of Elusion

Our eyes meet, hers full of fear until they clamp closed again. Tears escape from the corners, and I wipe them away with my free hand. She tips her head back on the pillow and regains control of her breathing.

“I’ll go get someone,” I say.

The grip on my hand tightens, her eyes on mine again, pleading.

All right, plan B then.

I press the button for the nurse and return my hand to her face. My thumb grazes over her uninjured cheek, and she turns into my touch. Except when she winces, trying to swallow, her gaze never strays from me. I stare into those gorgeous eyes, disregarding the pink hue staining the whites of them. Just like that, my world reassembles around me.

The nurse comes in and orders me to leave. I don’t acknowledge her until Callie slowly nods. I force myself out to the hallway, pulling out my phone. An older man scowls at me, but I have more important business at hand than pleasing my elders.

When Benji answers, loud music makes me yank the phone away from my ear.

“Where the fuck are you?” I ask.

All the noise stops at once.

“Oh, uh … a movie.”

“At six in the morning?”

“Yeah. I mean, no, man. Watching one at the house.”

If anyone ever accuses Benji of being a good liar, they’re the one who can lie. I don’t have time for whatever nonsense he has going on. “All right, well, girlfriend is awake. Updates to follow.”

I throw open the door to the waiting room and receive a standing ovation. Of course, my dramatic entrance has everyone thinking something is terribly wrong until I extend my arms.

“This is the last time I’m ever offering a loving embrace to anyone in this room other than Cate.”

A light returns to Connor. “She’s awake.”

Trey trips over Pete, asleep on the floor, as he barrels across the room and picks me up like we’re in the goddamnNotebook. He drops me to my feet and fastens his arms around me. Connor follows, my arms stretching over Trey to reach him. And, never one to be left out of the group hug, Pete joins in without fully waking up.

“Why are we hugging this time?” he asks.

We all laugh, none of us answering him.

“Uh, hello?” Cate says from the chair she’s standing on. “What about me?”

Her giggle fills the room when Connor picks her up and dances her around. Wanting to talk to the doctor, Trey rushes out to the hall to track someone down, and Pete calls Tony. Meanwhile, I collapse into a chair, the tension from my neck, shoulders, and forehead releasing after a stressful eleven hours.

Jesus.

It’s only been eleven hours.

Callie’s doctor comes in with Trey. The rest of us hit our feet, waiting for whatever news he prepares to deliver, while Trey takes a seat, straightening out his legs.

“She’s shaken up,” the doctor says, “but her neuro tests are good. She has pain and tightness in her neck and throat, and her voice is hoarse. My suggestion of her whispering or not talking did not go over well.”

Connor snorts out a laugh, covering his mouth.

“I want to keep her through today to watch the swelling in her throat from the strangulation. We’ll also have someone talk to her about the potential symptoms of PTSD.”

An eerie silence falls over the room with the reminder of the exact circumstances that led to us being with this doctor in this room in this hospital. Connor’s eyes close in response. I hold my breath, waiting for them to open again.

They do.

I exhale.

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