Page 75 of Luck of the Draw

Brennan saluted him with the glass. “I’ll see you bright and early, Sarge.”

Connor cocked an eyebrow at him and disappeared into the darkened bedroom, closing the door behind him.

And that was just fucking that.

18

UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER, NEW ORLEANS

It was like standing in a white room.

No…no, it was either a room or a long, white hallway. Whichever it was, it was like being in the depths of the ocean. Nothing felt right. Nothing sounded right. Nothing except…

“You can trust me on this,” a familiar voice was saying, and Skye’s swimming brain latched onto it.

Trust me on this.

Just trust me.

Trust me.

Where had she heard that voice before? It sounded like it was coming from the end of the white hall, or from the other side of the walls. Skye struggled to walk, but simultaneously she was moving forward as if on a moving walkway that she had no ability to stop or get off.

The speed of the moving walkway picked up, and she hurdled forward at an alarming rate, though there was no wind of momentum whipping her face or hair. Only the pull of an invisible force attached to her chest that was dragging her forward into an oblivion of nothingness.

Trust me on this.

Just trust me.

Trust me.

A shooting pain catapulted from the back of her brain, exploding against the back of her eyes, and her white surroundings snapped to black as if someone had shut off the electricity. She burst forth through a barrier like she’d emerged from the depths of the ocean and could suddenly perceive she was now viewing light from behind closed eyelids.

Aching stiffness hummed through her whole body. The general stabbing soreness intensified. A pained moan lurched up her throat and out of her mouth, and she clenched her fist around cloth that lay under her palm.

“…call you back in a little bit, but I promise you’re going to be really happy with…”

Every part of her body throbbed in excruciating jolts, but the voice soothed her from the inside out. Despite that, another moan and a whimper exited her mouth on a shallow breath.

A pair of large, strong hands were suddenly on the sides of her face, and terror gripped her. A yelp exploded out of her, and tears stung her still-closed eyes.

“Don’t,” she murmured on a shallow breath. “Please don’t.”

“Honey,” came the voice, and that’s exactly what it sounded like. Smooth as hot honey. It enveloped her in safety and warmth. “Skye, can you hear me, baby girl?”

The voice was urgent, hopeful, a bit panicked, but also steady. The hands gently held her face, fingers and thumbs stroking, and everything slowly started to make sense.

The voice belonged to Brennan. How could he still be here? Did he know? He couldn’t possibly know because if he did, he wouldn’t be here.

It took every ounce of strength to lift her eyelids, and Skye blinked away a sticky film of sleep until his face came into focus.

His face.

He has the most beautiful face.

The kindest face. Because he was kind, and good, and safe.

“Holy shit.” Brennan’s brows were knitted, and he spoke through a whisper; almost like he was talking to himself. “Holy fuck, you actually woke up.” He was as breathless as she was, and he let go of her cheeks, staggering backward and frantically pacing the room. He alternated raking his fingers through his hair and rubbing his face, all the while looking at her in disbelief. “I need to find the doctor.”

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