Page 49 of Embracing Sky
Sky struggles began anew. “N-No! No! Adam, please,please!”
“Shh,” I whispered, picking him up and cradling him to my chest. He wrapped his arms around my neck and buried his face there, shaking his head frantically. God, this poor boy. Did this place remind him of the facility? Of his past terrors? “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m right here.”
A nurse in Snoopy scrubs came forward, a needle in hand. She eyed me, then gestured to the bed. “Sir, please. He has internal injuries. He needs to be sedated before he hurts himself further.”
“No, no, no! No more needles! Please, Adam, make it stop!” Sky broke into sobs, his tears soaking the collar of my shirt, and I was torn by my need to keep him safe from the terrors in his mind, and the need to keep him safe from the wounds of his physical self.
“Shh,” I soothed him, even as I shifted Sky’s weight so that the nurse could pull up his hospital gown and stick him with the syringe. She pushed the plunger down slowly, and I watched the clear liquid disappear inside of my frightened Omega. He needed to calm down. He couldn’t be panicked like this if he was supposed to heal.
I hated that I was the bad guy, even as Sky whimpered and held onto me. “I’m sorry, Sky,” I murmured, stroking his hair as his body slowly went lax in my arms. “I’m sorry. It’s gonna be okay, baby.”
As gently as I could, I laid him back down on the hospital stretcher. Sky flopped helplessly there, gazing up at the ceiling with glassy, half-lidded eyes, his lips parted with each gasped breath. I stood there, hugging my arms to my sides as I watched the nurses busy themselves with taking blood and reinserting his IV, hooking him back up to the machines and the oxygen.
It hurt. It hurt sogoddamnbadly. I hated leaving him like this, but Snoopy Nurse took me by the arm and escorted me out of the recovery ward with a sympathetic-but-stern look on her face.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “He has PTSD from medical kidnapping when he was a teenager. This is traumatic for him. He’s been in therapy for months and he’s been working through a lot, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg, you know?” I rubbed at my aching temples.
She frowned. “I’ll need to talk to the doctor, but we might have to keep him sedated until he’s healed enough to be discharged, for his own safety. We can’t have him harming himself, even if it’s unintentional.”
I nodded. “I understand. I hate it, but you need to do what’s best for Sky.”
Emotionally exhausted and feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world, I returned to the waiting room, and that’s where I stayed for three and a half more hours, until the doctor came back and told me that Fletcher was out of recovery and in a room in the ICU.
I wasn’t sure my heart could take anymore pain today, but I knew I needed to see him; if anything else, to reassure myself that he was alive and safe.
Fletcher lay in his hospital bed, bruised and battered, his left arm in a cast. There were bandages wrapped around his head. As the driver, he’d taken the brunt of the damage, but it wasn’t anything a little shifter magic couldn’t fix.
That’s what I told myself, at least, as I pulled a chair over to his bedside and sat down.
“Adam?” His voice was muzzy with sleep, his eyes barely cracked open, like that was all he had the energy for.
“Shh. I’m right here, kitten,” I told him. I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Just rest.” He closed hiseyes and sank back into the pillows. I let the weight of his hand ground me and bowed my head, my thoughts circling like vultures over a kill.
Fuck…
31
FLETCHER
I wokeup groggy and disoriented. Everything hurt. My whole body throbbed with pain. Even my soul ached, if that was possible. My skull pounded with every beat of my heart, and everything was too bright. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the light.
“Adam?” I croaked out the word, my mouth drier than a desert. I tried to lift my hand to gesture at the window, but found I couldn’t move it. “Blinds? Too bright…”
“Okay, kitten.” Adam’s low timbre was music to my ears. He patted my hand gently before adding, “Hang on.” He got up, and I heard his feet move over the floor. Then, blessedly, shadow bathed the room.
I relaxed with a soft sigh, my eyelashes fluttering closed once more. Adam shuffled around. The chair legs made a soft scraping sound on the tile. The beeping of the machines threatened to pull me back under the surface of oblivion. Adam’s fingers squeezed gently around mine, a subtle confirmation that he was right there, by my side.
I squeezed back, and I was drifting away again.
The next time I awoke, I was alone. It was nighttime. The room was dark, lit only by a strip of light above the sink. I could see nurses walking past through the cracked-open door.
My mouth was so dry.So thirsty.I tried to move, but everything ached and my body moved sluggishly. If I were in the hospital, that meant I was likely doped up on pain meds, and if it still hurt this bad? Damn.
I fumbled for the call button with my good arm. The other one was in a cast. I couldn’t see the rest of my body beneath the white blankets, which worried me, so I tried wiggling my toes. The blankets moved. Thank god. At least I didn’t lose any limbs.
I remembered the wreck, remembered the white Dodge truck careening towards us, and Sky screaming, “LOOK OUT!” But it was too late. There was nothing I could do… Was Sky okay? Worry bloomed like a deadly flower in my heart.
I managed to press the call button, then sank back, exhausted all over again, as if I’d just run a marathon.
