Page 65 of Merciless
"Sure," I mock-grumbled from the doorway. "Man, I can't wait 'til your home so you can grab them your damn self."
"Me too," he sighed, waving at me from his bed. "Thanks, Jandro."
Twenty-Six
MARIPOSA
“Good morning, love." I took my seat at Reaper's bedside, throwing my wet hair up a careless bun before reaching for his hand. "You'll be happy to know that I didnotdoze off standing up in the shower today. I'll call that a win."
The soft, steady beeping of his heart monitor was my only reply. His fingers remained stiff and unresponsive to my touch. I took his thumb and rubbed over the stone of the ring he gave me, like he always did when our hands connected.
"I miss you," I said to my husband who looked peacefully asleep, despite all the wounds covering his body. "We all miss you. I thought for sure you'd wake up at the smell of Jandro's cooking, but you're being stubborn now too, huh?"
Dr. Brooks said talking to him might encourage him to come out of his coma. Attempting a joke seemed like it might lift my own spirits, but the silence that followed canceled that out completely. Even when my own jokes were lame, Reaper always validated them somehow. He'd laugh, groan, tease me, or just grab me and kiss me.
The past day of sitting next to him, finally being able toseehim, brought all those little moments pouring back. I thought of the night he gave me the ring, how nervous he was when he asked me to be his wife. When I first told him I was going to spend the night with Jandro, how terrified I had been, wondering if I’d misunderstood everything.
All the regrets came pouring back too, like the night I took this same ring off and threw it at him. But nothing replayed on an endless loop like the day before he was captured.
How I had completely melted down after seeing my dad in that state, and Reaper was there through it all. How beautifully, painfully honest he was with me, and how I threw it all in his face.
I reached up to touch his face, taking in what would become new scars long after he healed. Even with all the injuries, he was still so beautiful. My touch ran over his eyebrows and forehead, wishing I could absorb all the suffering he went through for our family. For me.
"I need you to wake up, love," I whispered. "I need to tell you how sorry I am."
There was no movement beneath those eyelids, no sign that they would crack open and show me those green irises that always made my pulse race.
With a sigh, I moved back to sit down when I heard a soft knock at the doorway. The man filling the frame made my heart skip, and a sob choked my throat.
"Shadow," I whimpered.
"Lover," he answered, stoic face crumbling with emotion.
My body hit his before I realized I was moving. The solidness of his chest was the exact place I needed to land on, and the massive arms folding around my back was the shield I needed to stay strong.
He was thinner, his ribs more prominent as I hugged around him.
"I'm sorry, I should have been around to--"
"Stop," he grunted, cupping the back of my head. "No apologizing. Others needed you more than me."
"None of you damn men will let me apologize," I laughed, wiping my cheeks.
"Because no apology is needed," he told me matter-of-factly. "You can't be in more than one place at a time."
I pulled together after a few more moments of letting myself cry on him. "So you're okay? Discharged already?"
Shadow's thumbs swept the remaining moisture off my cheek. "Yes, lover. Want to sit down?"
I led him to my chair at Reaper's side, sat him down, and promptly curled into his lap. Shadow's content sigh against my body was the only thing that eased my stress level since we got back from the fortress.
"Pneumonia and dehydration were my biggest issues," he said. "Once they treated my infection, it was just a matter of me getting rest and fluids."
I rested my forehead in the crook of his neck, soaking up all the warmth and the familiar, cozy nearness of him that I could. "Good. I'm glad that's all it was."
Shadow's gaze lifted to Reaper's bed. "Any change since yesterday?"
"Not yet."
