Page 145 of Roses Are Dead
That was a tall order. There were complications, and more than just my tenuous grasp on health right now. “Beth?”
“She’ll get better. Have some faith.” His chin dipped, causing the chain and pendant to sway lightly.
Very slowly, I nodded. But tears gathered at my eyes. “I was awful to you.”
“You were honest. That’s not awful.”
“I chose Beth over you.”
He leaned over me so I could see his face plainly. “No. You didn’t. You chose your friend, and my friends, and a bunch of stuff over yourself. You ain’t going to do that anymore, got it?”
Oh, I got it. Bear was doing what he did best. “Bossy old bear.”
“Witch.”
That label felt so good.
“Don’t leave me.” I found a grip in his hair again.
He detangled my fingers gently. Then kissed each one, taking time to really look at the marks there. “You’re right. These will make one hell of a tattoo. It’s going to take forever, though.”
“Don’t leave me. Please?”
His stare was too intense. “I’m going to ask you the same thing. Don’t you dare leave me. I wasn’t kidding when I said I need you. It felt like someone took a big ass construction shovel to my chest when you left. I was hollow. I can’t live like that.”
I knew what he felt. “When it’s all gone, there’s nothing left, is there?”
His slow nod and tight lips spoke without words.
My grip tightened. “I need you.”
“I know.” He fiddled with the side of the bed so the rail was down and shifted around until he was half-lying next to me. His head pressed against my shoulder. His hand wrapped over my waist. The night nurse found us like that. She must have been used to such shenanigans because her directions were gentle.
“That chair folds into a bed. You’ll be more comfortable.” While she directed Bear, she checked the stitches on his head. I hadn’t noticed before, but they were awful.
I felt more guilt.
Despite what I wanted, he needed more than I could give. I’d only hold him back.
When the next shift kicked him out and told him to return during visiting hours, I didn’t fight it.
He didn’t come back until late that afternoon.
In between, Tits sat with me, guarding my room like an angry tiger. I barely said two words to her, and likewise, she was scarily stoic.
But it was good to have someone around. I still couldn’t move my left leg, and my arm on that side was clumsy at best. While my fingers tingled so badly they burned, I couldn’t do more than make them twitch erratically.
And my toes had stopped curling in response to the external tests.
The burns that snaked over my body simmered with a raging inferno of pain. Between tests I asked Tits to take pictures. The marks on my arms blistered already. They’d be ugly soon.
“Help me with this.” I tried to reach the ties to my gown.
“You shouldn’t be moving.”
Right then, Bear strolled in. “What are you doing, woman?”
“Help me take this off.” I got a hold of something back there, but it wasn’t budging.
