Page 106 of To Ashes and Dust
Jenn headed for the counter and pulled various things from the drawers. The gloves snapped and squeaked as she pulled them on, the sound echoing off the walls as she rolled the tray over to the bedside, pausing to grab the rubber tourniquet.
“All right, Cas. Extend your right arm for me, hun,” she said tenderly, her dark hair slipping free from behind her ear as she leaned forward.
I stretched my arm out, straightening my elbow. She turned from the rolling tray to face me. I couldn’t miss the brief hesitation as her eyes found the long scar spanning the length of my forearm, one of the few scars remaining from when Marcus had kept me imprisoned. She didn’t say anything as she wrapped the strip of stretchy material around my bicep, tying it tight.
She quickly prepped my skin, rubbing it down with alcohol before reaching back to grab the needle and syringe. Her thumb pressed into the crease of my elbow as she lifted her eyes to mine, a reassuring smile on her face. “Ready?”
I nodded, taking a deep breath. I turned my gaze from the needle as she lowered it to the crease of my elbow. My body tensed as the needle pierced my skin, and I closed my eyes, my mind drifting elsewhere again, anywhere but here.
My thoughts wandered to times when Damien and I had spent hours curled up together on the couch, when we’d hosted ‘Shitty Movie Sundays’. Barrett choosing the absolute worst movies to watch. The living room would be filled with jokes and comments that left me laughing until my sides hurt.
Those memories helped pass the time it took Jenn to do what she needed until the technician had finished the EKG. I sat in the room, alone again, waiting for Dr. Robertson to return. Anxiety swelled as I wondered how much time had passed. Would it be good news? Bad news? My thoughts wandered and the anxiety grew, clouding my thoughts in a shroud of fear.
No. Not now.
My thoughts drifted to what I feared, to what had happened before, to what I knew would inevitably happen again.
I nudged my front door open, my mom following close behind as I stepped into my apartment, our arms weighed down with every grocery bag that had been in the car as we joked about how we refused to make a second trip for more. I set them on the counter. “Told you we could do it!”
My mom laughed as she set her own down on the kitchen table, and she began unloading the groceries.
“I’m gonna run these few up to my room. I’ll be back to help you,” I said, skirting past her.
“All right,” she said, and I grabbed the bags of toiletries as I headed down the hall. I had plans to meet Kat for a pizza date in a few hours, our weekly ritual we’d managed every Friday night without interruption for years. As I reached the top of the stairs, I stopped, brows furrowing as a tightness spread through my chest. I blinked as it receded, almost as quickly as it had appeared. I shook it off and turned for the bathroom.
When my shampoo, conditioner, soap, and other goodies were all restocked, I started toward my room to drop off the last of my things. I halted. The room spun and shifted, and I stumbled, bracing myself against the counter. A cold sweat broke out across my skin, and I took a step forward, suddenly feeling as if I couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs.
“Mo—” Pain shot through my chest, knocking the wind from me.
Oh God. I opened my mouth to call for help, but the pain shot through me again, down my back, and the room spun until I couldn’t see straight. I needed to get to Mom, I needed...
“Cas?” My mother’s voice reached up to me from downstairs.
“Hel—” Pain, sharper than before, tore through me, the wind rushing from my lungs, as my knees gave out from under me, the world going dark as I hit the tile.
A wave of electricity shot through the nothingness, sending piercing white light across my vision, and a blur of voices trickled in through the darkness.
“Resuming CPR!”
Weight pressed on my chest in a rapid rhythm, and then my lungs expanded, but I didn’t breathe.
“Clear!” The voice was breathless, and the next words were laced with what sounded like irritation or urgency, I couldn’t tell. “Get them out of here!”
The shock surged through me again, excruciating and blinding. Then I heard a familiar voice, a woman, her voice filled with tears and terror.
“Cassie!”
A knock sounded at the door, and I jumped as Dr. Robertson entered, carrying a large envelope in his hands. The MRI. I clenched the end of the bed, my stomach dipping. He pulled the results from the envelope and stuck it up on the light panel before flipping the switch. God, I wish it didn’t look like a black and white blob.
“So, I have some good news,” he said, resting the envelope on the counter as his gaze shifted back and forth between his notes and the glowing picture.
My heart leapt, tension slipping from my shoulders. “You do?”
“There is a bit more scar tissue, which we expected, but not much. Whatever you’re doing seems to have slowed the development.”
A weight left my shoulders as the news sank in. I was good for now; I still had more time. Was it because of Eris’ interference? It was strange to think Eris had truly been helping me. I also wondered if Damien’s feeding was somehow helping. Dr. Robertson had said my blood pressure was better than it’d been in years. It was ironic to think Damien believed he was hurting me by feeding, when in fact it seemed he was doing quite the opposite.
“We’re gonna keep you on the same medications. You keep doing what you’re doing. Keep up the exercise, and let me know if anything happens,” he said, pulling the MRI down from the panel.
