Page 79 of Jasper

Nothing comes out.

Everything is a blur of flashing lights, shouting, and running feet. There’s motion all around me, but the only thing I can focus on is him.

Daddy.

His arms wrap tight around me, his warmth cutting through the cold, and I let my head fall against his chest.

I’m safe.

Jasper won’t let anything happen to me.

The world turns fuzzy right before everything goes black again.

* * *

Iwake slowly, as if surfacing from deep underwater. My head pounds. A dull, throbbing ache that pulses behind my eyes and down the back of my neck. Everything hurts. My muscles feel bruised, my limbs heavy, like I’ve been slammed against a concrete wall. Which, I guess, I kind of have.

My mouth is so dry it’s hard to swallow, and my tongue feels like sandpaper.

A soft beep registers near my ear. It’s faint, but steady. Rhythmic. I blink, my lashes sticking together as I try to make sense of my surroundings.

Jasper’s room.

His scent wraps around me like a blanket. I lift my hand instinctively, but stop when I feel the tug of something in my skin. I glance down.

An IV.

A machine clipped to my finger blinks softly with a glowing green light.

What…?

Panic flutters in my chest until I see him.

Jasper.

He’s slumped in the armchair beside the bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed like the weight of the world’s too much for even his broad shoulders to bear.

“Daddy…” My voice is barely more than a whisper.

But he hears it.

His head jerks up, eyes locking onto mine. And oh, God, his face. There’s exhaustion carved into every line. His eyes are rimmed red, the shadows under them deep and dark.

He looks broken.

“Baby,” he breathes, moving instantly to my side, his hand reaching out to brush the hair from my face. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

I try to swallow again, but my throat burns. “Thirsty,” I rasp.

He nods quickly, already grabbing something from the nightstand. A baby bottle. One he bought for me, but I haven’t used yet. He doesn’t hesitate, just puts it to my lips.

“Open,” he says roughly.

I do, too thirsty to argue, and the second the nipple slips between my lips, I suck greedily, slow at first, then more desperately.

He watches me, eyes locked on mine, like if he blinks, I’ll disappear.

I keep drinking, the room silent except for my soft suckling and the quiet beep of the machine beside me.

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