I managed to crack my eyelids open, but the bright lights shining down on me hurt, sending shards of pain through my brain. I slammed them shut again, then opened them more slowly. I blinked against the bright light and managed to turn my head just enough to see who stood by me.
Jesus Christ, I hadn’t died. Carrie was here with my father.
She wore a short purple-ish dress, a pair of ripped tights, and her hair was falling all around her face. Her makeup was smeared across her cheekbones, and she had the hugest bags under her eyes I’d ever seen …but she was my very own angel.
“C-Carrie?” I managed to croak.
She burst into tears and nodded, smiling at me. Fuck, she looked perfect. “Yes, it’s me,” she said. “I’m here.”
Dad gripped my arm and kissed the left side of my forehead. “You scared us, son.”
I’d scared them? How had they even known about it? I had so many questions to ask, but I didn’t want to. Not now. All that mattered was they were here. And I was alive.
Fucking alive. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that yet.
Carrie kissed my hand, her hot tears hitting my skin. She blinked at me, a soft smile still on her lips. I knew she was putting on a show for me, trying to be brave and all that shit. And I loved her so much for it.
“I know you feel horrible right now, but I’ve never been happier to see those blue eyes,” she said, kissing my hand again.
“You…” I took a deep breath. It hurt to f**king talk, but I had to say something to let them know I was still here, under all the scrapes and bandages. “Look like hell.”
She blinked at me, then a surprised laugh escaped her. Dad chuckled, too, and I eased my head back on the pillow, closing my eyes. That’s what I’d needed. Right there. I needed them to take a break from crying or worrying about me.
And it’s what they needed, too, even if they didn’t know it.
“I’m sure we do,” she said, her voice still light.
“It’s been a rough night, son,” Dad said. “Not anything like yours…”
“I’m feeling pretty good right now,” I said, trying to make light of the fact that I felt like I was dying slowly. “I’m h-h...”
My voice broke and I swallowed hard. I kept picturing the life leaving Dotter’s eyes as I clung to his bloody stump of a leg. Jesus Christ. I’d never forget it.
The doctor cleared his throat. “I think we should let him rest now. I’m going to get him another dose of morphine. You’ll have to say your goodbyes till tomorrow.”
I tightened my fingers on Carrie. I’d just found her again. I didn’t want her to leave, but the nurse pushed a button on my IV station, and the world spun in front of me, taking away my vision and even my concentration. “C-Carrie?”
“I’m still here,” she whispered.
“Tell me something before they dope me up again,” I whispered, urging her closer. “Before I’m g-gone.”
I felt her move closer to me. “Yeah?”
“Is the sun shining?”
Her tears hit my arm, rolling off onto my hospital bed. “It is. And it won’t stop. I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”
I nodded and drifted off, the nightmare starting all over again. I could still smell the flesh burning, and I could hear the cries of the dying men all around me, but I knew I wasn’t there anymore. I was home. And Carrie was here, too.
I’d be all right.
What might have been minutes or hours later, I opened my eyes again, blinking into the empty hospital room. I heard someone move closer and slowly turned my head, hoping to see Carrie. Instead, I saw her father. Senator Wallington.
For a second I thought I was hallucinating, so I blinked again. He was still standing there, watching me with those intense blue eyes. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I was too damn high to make a f**king sound.
When he saw my eyes on him, he took a step closer and rested his hand on my bedrail. “I know you probably won’t remember this, but you’re a hero, son.”
I blinked. Yeah, I was totally f**king high right now.
He sighed. “I know you love my girl, Griffin. And I know she loves you, too.” He looked down at me. “I get why you fell for her. Who wouldn’t? It doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, though. Or that I’ll accept it.”
I wanted to reply so f**king bad, but nothing came out.
I swallowed and tried to open my mouth to talk, but the drugs were still dragging me down. All that came out was a moan sounding like, “Sir?”
He flinched and reached out, pushing a button on my IV that controlled my morphine drip. “Get well, son. For both of our sakes.”
Within seconds, the screams of the dying men took over my head again…
And I fell back into my own version of hell.