Page 48 of Speak

Pardon me?

Chase tilts his head a fraction and I see Jonas sitting at the table closest to me, watching this interaction. Great. Now I can’t even sit under my favorite tree. I lock eyes with the love of my life, now Cecilia’s love, (because only an idiot wouldn’t fall for Jonas Anderson) and raise the wrap and bite into the chicken. Chew. Swallow. I bring the bottle of water to my lips; the water is so cool I can feel it when it coats my esophagus and settles into the traitorous pit that is my stomach. I do this over and over again until the entire thing has disappeared. My stomach hurts and I keel over, vomiting the entire thing up, until I fall over, face first beside the puddle of my own sickness and the entire world turns black.

I wake up what feels like seconds later, to someone shaking me awake, and I scramble, as quickly as I can, which I’m sure is in absolute slow motion, and it’s so fucking embarrassing. Who the fuck faints? A freak. That’s who.

I recognize my surroundings too quickly when I feel the plush firmness under my spine. I’m in my bed. In my dorm. I’m okay.

Except, Jonas sits on the edge of my bed. The twins are leaning against the wall.

“Can you look into the light, Raven?”

I freeze. I close my eyes. It’s a dream it’s a dream this isn’t real.Something I can hear-

“Raven?”

Something I can feel- I reach out to touch him.See- look into his silver eyes.Smell– I inhale that familiar scent of his, except he doesn’t smell like a sterile environment. He smells of rainwater and wet cedar and books.Taste– my vomit from earlier.

I put my hand over my mouth because if I can taste it, then he can smell it.

“I think the lady would like some water and mouth wash.” Damon chuckles when he sees I did everything he taught me to do before and during an episode, pride shining in his eyes. He always looks at me like that. Like he adores me. Like I’m… everything to him. Tears want to escape but I don’t let them. Riordan comes back with both and hands me the waste bin so I can spit it out.

It takes everything in me not to climb into Damon’s lap, like I once did with Jonas. My uninjured hand hurts and I see the IV line connected to me.

Damon takes my other hand. “You gave us quite a scare, Raven. I had to run an IV. You’re extremely dehydrated. Can you tell me who did that to you?” he asks, pointing to my injured hand. Both Jonas and Chase stiffen behind him. I look at them from over Damon’s broad shoulder then back at my Damon.

No. I blink.

“Boys, I think I should like to be with my patientalone. She obviously doesn’t feel comfortable with you in the room and won’t be speaking-”

My face drops. We’re back to that. I’m hispatient.

“-She doesn’t talk. At all. I should be here. I can decipher her looks sometimes.” Jonas says abruptly.

I shake my head and Jonas’ face contorts as though I’ve betrayed him. Except he’s no longer mine to betray. Just like I’m no longer his to protect. Unclaimed. I want him to go.Needhim to go because I want to be alone with Damon. Need to be alone with him. I have so much to tell him, so many questions to ask.

“Looks as though she’s communicating just fine without you, Mister Anderson. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” Damon replies, not lookingover his shoulder, gunmetal eyes piercing through me. They all leave, and Damon gets up to lock the door behind them and I get a good look at him. Even though he’s not in his lab coat, he is still as sexy as ever.

Black hair, silver on the sides that make his eyes pop. Lavender button up, sleeves tight on his biceps, accentuating the other muscles. Even his charcoal slacks are tighter around his quads, a slim black belt holds them up. He runs his fingers through his hair as he walks back to me, every stride is unhurried and even then, he eats up the space between us so quickly, I barely have time to sit up properly before he’s sitting on the edge of my bed.

I hold my arms out and pulls me onto his arms and into his lap. “I’ve been wanting to make my presence known for so long.” He whispers, lips kissing my hair. He stands and we’re in my bathroom. He juggles me and the IV pole the entire time he’s turning on the faucet to my bathtub, moving about the bathroom, grabbing everything he needs, as if he knows exactly where everything is, and it’s because he does.

My dreams haven’t been dreams. I’ve been makingvocalnoises, whimpering, moaning, gasping when he’s been inside of me, his fingers, his tongue, parts of his cock.

He undresses me tenderly and I don’t shy away. Why should I? This man knows me, all of me. The good, the bad, the ugly and has never batted an eyelash or told me how ugly me or my scars are, how horrendous I’ve been during my violent episodes, some even toward him. He’s treated me with kindness, a kindness that was so rare to me, it made me love him as more than just my doctor.

“I’m so angry with you, little bird. How dare you not take care of yourself? You’re hurting what is mine, and I won’t abide by that. I’ve had to watch you for days. Starving yourself, Raven? That is so childish. Why are you punishing yourself?” His tone is harsh but his touch is so gentle and loving.

When I’m nude, he has me in the rising warm water, directing me so he can wash all of me,expertly, I might add. His soapy fingers trail over my nipples, teasing, pinching, pulling until my thighs are shaking. He goes down to my navel, fingering it clean, and then down to the apex of my sex, cleaning me in and out, never going deeper than a knuckle. I’m a quivering, needy mess by the time he’sfinished. When my hair is washed and conditioned, he grabs my hairbrush and begins brushing out the tangles.

I tap on my neck, where this weird bump is underneath the skin.

He massages circles into it with his strong thumb and then he kisses the little scar. A new scar he gave me. The only one I will ever like.

“You disappeared on me, Raven. I won’t abide by that, either. I did what I had to do. You are allowed to fly, little bird. You can go anywhere in the world, you are no longer in my cage, but I need to know you’re safe. I need to be there in the blink of an eye if anything ever goes wrong. Do you understand me?”

I lean into his touch, hot tears slipping free. This should scare me. I should be disgusted. I should scratch out his eyeballs. But the thought that he was scared, worried about not being able to find me, my god, it makes my demons come alive. He’s been as crazy for me as I’ve been for him this whole time? I can’t handle it. When he pulls away from me, I tug him back, pulling him close.

He stands, and I almost cry out in anger at the rejection, but he comes back with a towel, careful with my IV, he lifts me in bridal style, directs me to grab the IV pole and then sits me on the bathroom counter, dries my hair and thenbrushes my teeth for me. After he inspects my tongue, his thumb lingering on my bottom lip, he picks me up again, sets me down on my bed, I pull him close to kiss him.

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