Page 120 of Steele

A persistent beep penetrated my mind like an icepick and warred with a distant drone of a low hum. Pain knifed through my chest. I tried to move. What the fuck? Panic hit like a shot of speed. My heart slammed against my ribs, and heat ripped through my body. Gravity had a lock on my limbs. Everything felt heavy and dead.

With herculean effort, I tried to pry my eyes open, but the light was too fucking bright. Shadows and silhouettes shifted in my peripheral. Was I fucking dead? If I was seeing the light, I guess my sins hadn’t sent me to hell.

I tried to swallow but couldn’t. My mouth and throat grated like sandpaper. I tried to thrash free of the anchors holding me down, but my bones ached, and my muscles were weak. While my mind fought the confinement, I wasn’t sure my body actually moved.

“Is he awake?” The words seeped into my mind, but I couldn’t distinguish the source.

“It’s hard to say. Soon. Now that the fever has broken, the doctor is bringing him back slowly. We don’t know how much he’s hearing or if his body is just responding to the sedation wearing off. Give it a few hours.”

I tried to move my lips, but something held my mouth open. “Jaymi.” I wasn’t sure if the sound made it past my lips. My throat was tight and raw. My eyes were too fucking heavy, and it hurt too fucking bad to breathe. The voices faded, and the darkness encroached.

My mind drifted on a numbing oblivion. Pain morphed into obscurity. But the voices lingered.

How much will he remember?

Will he have permanent damage?

What if he doesn’t remember anything?

I love you, Brett. I love the way you make me feel. I love the way you kiss me. I love this. I love the feeling of you being inside of me. I love our baby.

I couldn’t tell how much of what I heard was real because I could only hear Jaymi in my mind.

“Brett? Can you hear me?”

My eyelid was pried open and a beam of light cut across my pupil. I tried to squint against the brightness.

“Hello, Brett. It’s normal to feel confused. You’re okay. You’re in the hospital.” A strong hand slid beneath mine. “Can you squeeze my fingers?”

The thought seemed to take forever to go from my brain to my hand, but I finally felt the pressure of my fingers tightening against the doctor’s palm.

“Good. You’re doing great. I want to get you off the ventilator. I need you to do a few things for me. Squeeze my hand once for no, twice for yes.”

I squeezed twice.

“Good,” the doctor said again. A nurse appeared at his side in the dimly lit room.

“Can I hold his hand?” The feminine voice came from the darkness.

“I think he’d like that,” the nurse said.

I shifted my eyes, trying to find her. I needed Jaymi. Tears pricked my eyes. A heavy pressure crushed my chest. She stepped closer, a soft smile curled her lips, and her auburn hair weaved into a braid. Clover took my hand.

I tried to speak, but my throat was paralyzed by the tube.

The doctor stood over me. “You’ve got three broken ribs on the left, and a stab wound on the right. The blade hit the bone, which is why we’re even having this conversation. You’re lucky. The reason I’m telling you this is because coming off the vent is going to hurt. But I can’t take you off unless you can clear the mucus from your lungs. You want off the vent?”

I squeezed twice, as hard as I could. Every time my mouth moved, I wanted to gag but couldn’t with a garden hose down my throat. I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t inhale or exhale. I wanted the fucking tube out of my throat.

He smiled. “I’m going to test the strength of your diaphragm.” He wiggled the breathing tube. I fucking tried to get my chest to contract. Pressure built, and a wheezing wet sound escaped around the tube.

“Good. That’s what we’re looking for.”

The tube loosened, and fucking hell, it felt like I was drowning. I gagged, and my body tensed. Clover held my hand tighter.

“You’re okay,” the doctor said. “I need you to lift your head for five seconds.”

“His vitals are holding,” the nurse confirmed.