Page 7 of Shattered Heir
I cleared my throat. “You shouldn’t let people just hit you. That wasn’t okay. I am sorry; I was upset, and I don’t know why I did that. It looks like you will be okay.” That last part, I spoke to reassure myself.
“No kiss to make it better?” he asked with a teasing smirk. It was not the Shad that I had fallen in love with—not the same boy who had poured out his entire heart to me in that cave.
I shook my head. Kisses were very special to Shad. I couldn’t just kiss him, especially when he wasn’t himself.
He held the cloth to his lip as I let go of it. “I guess, with a bloody lip, I am not too appealing,” he smirked again at me, and I really wanted to kiss him, but I told myself, that among many other reasons, that yes, it was a terrible idea at that moment because, as he said, his lip wasbleeding.
“Flirting with me?” I asked because it was obvious that he was. That was a good thing, though, right? I mean, maybe he still felt our connection. I could still feel the electricity of our connection when we touched. Maybe he could, too.
“What? Is that so wrong? You are a beautiful girl, especially now that you are not covered in blood like a crazy murderer.” He winked, and my heart fluttered.
He wanted to kiss, right?I could do that. It isn’t like we can no longer kiss, just because he is soulless, right?
Get a grip, Emma. What is wrong with you? He isn’t the same Shad.
I decided not to say anything back to him. Ryker was just feet away from us in some hospital bed, possibly struggling for hislife. I focused on him. We sat there, silent, and I kept moving my leg up and down, up and down, trying to bring all my nerves to my leg and pump them out of me with the movement. Keil appeared in the doorway and smiled at us. I didn’t miss it, the look in his tired eyes that his smile hadn’t yet matched. He looked exhausted, and I could only imagine what he had been through during the past forty-eight hours, what we all had been through and then some. I stopped shaking my leg as I felt Shad’s electric touch halt the movement.
I looked at him.
“Go, you should go see him first,” he whispered, and I could almost imagine the real Shad there beside me, touching my leg and talking to me.
“Thanks,” I returned, and as I stood. He grabbed my hand, and I felt the electric shocks there, too, just as in the past.
“I am being motioned over to talk to that man who must be the infamous Keil. Don’t get too friendly with Ryker. I still want that kiss. You will just have to owe me—at a later time,” he smirked.
My mouth dropped open. “I am not—and I—” I couldn’t even complete the sentence.
“Is flirting not a thing that you and I did?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, reminding me of a predator studying his prey—or maybe—a mate? “I feel like this behavior surprises you.”
I shook my head, “Well—that wasn’t—it—” I couldn’t speak clearly.
“Go,” he said, letting go of my hand with a chuckle.
Keil walked over to him. It relieved me that, finally, Keil would explain everything to him. I left the confusing, incredibly hot, irritatingly alluring, and frustrating Shad to go see Ryker.
Chapter Three
Iwalked down the sterile, white hallway to Ryker's room with a nurse guiding me. She opened the door to a small white room with seafoam green curtains and a disinfectant smell that only came from hospitals. Ryker lay in a large hospital bed. Beeping machines were to his left. His curls covered his forehead, and his face seemed so boyish as he slept. Even though Mary had told me that he was alright, I still needed confirmation.
“Is he all right?” I asked, just an echo in the quiet room.
“He lost a lot of blood, and he has many infected wounds, some broken ribs, and a few broken fingers as well.” She reached for his chart and flipped through the pages. “You are his sister, right?” she asked with a raised brow, directing her attention away from his medical chart and over to me. I didn’t know why she assumed that, but if I had to be his sister to see him, then his sister, I was.
I nodded. “I am Emma.” I held out my hand.
Instead of shaking it, she nodded. “Oh, you are Emma,” she smiled. “He is still very weak and needs rest, but he has beenasking for you.” She gave me another quick smile and walked out of the room without another word.
I sat in a chair near his bed and looked at him. I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. I was so grateful for those breaths. The last conversation we had on the phone was not the kind of last conversation anyone would want with a person they love. I was so grateful that it would not be our last. I hoped we never had to have one—a last conversation. Ryker, my oldest and dearest friend in the entire world, and in all the realms, I guess. He meant so much to me. I was then aware that there were many past experiences, which had formed our relationship during the years when my soul's melody had been shielded by my parents. I could not remember them all, but I still knew with every fiber of my being that Ryker had always been there for me.
When my parents died, and I was recovering in the hospital, wasn't he there with me? Wasn't he there, holding me in his arms so the broken pieces of me wouldn't fall apart? Yes. I may not have all of my memories, but I had that one, and it was seared into my soul. I knew when I awoke, even when I could not actually see him, just knowing that he was there and feeling the tears he shed for me and the shaking of his body as he sobbed, that we both had lost something great. Yes, I loved that boy. I loved him, and I didn’t think I would or could ever stop.
When I saw him back there, broken and bloodied in that cave, I wasn’t sure that he would ever recover. He could barely speak, and when he did, it was only out of concern for my safety, telling me that I should not have come, that it was a trap. I tried to rub his limbs to bring back some warmth into the blueness of his skin, but it had been a futile effort. His face was swollen, and blood spread out in puddles beneath him on that cave floor. He should have been dead. We shouldn't have found him alive. But we had, which proved to me that he was incredibly strong.
But there he was. He isn't in that cave anymore, I told myself, trying to make the images that flashed through my mind go away. He had cuts and scrapes and bruises all over the exposed parts of his body that I could see. Still, he was alive and safe. I cried, seeing the injuries that had been inflicted upon him. All that torture, because of me—because ofmymelody—no, because ofCade. The monster roared again within me, and I wanted to fight. I wanted to scream and howl, but I tamed the angry beast for a few minutes. I needed to control myself. I played my melody loud and locked up the monster, telling her that she would have her vengeance on Cade–justice for Ryker and Shad–but not yet. I looked at Ryker’s face and stood, slightly bent over the bed to move a few curls from off his brow. He moved a bit at my touch, and I sat back down. I saw his hand resting on the edge of the bed, and I held it; his soft warmth calmed my nerves.
This is home.
Tears sprinkled down my face and onto our joined hands: tears of sadness, of hope, of sorrow, of pain, and of relief at seeing Ryker again.
