Chapter 35

Ifelt a sense of weightlessness and yet groggy. I stirred, expecting pain to whomp me heavily like it always did. But it didn't. I was in heaven. At peace. I made it.

No pain, no worry, just bliss. I drifted back into my inebriated state, following the sounds of my steady breath and of another noise I couldn"t make out. I felt like I was floating on cloud 9, dizzy and drunk. Was this what heaven felt like? Bouncy, light and airy. Though, a spike of curiosity surfaced in my brain with a need to make sense of the beeping sound, bouncing through the air. What the? I didn't think heaven made those noises. Oh, crap. Maybe I was in hell? No, that doesn't check out either, what the hell was it? I tried to make up a scenario of my mundane whereabouts. Only catching visuals of a wedding?

What the? I didn"t marry anyone. Did I? Suddenly it hit me. That it was my treacherous imagination, fooling me into believing that the only thing that burned the scene in my mind was what I wanted my life to be like. Morphing it right into a memory. A fake memory. That was far from the truth. I stirred again, my senses coming in full swing, and my true memories stapled me like a freight train.The cabin.Days, weeks.Unbearable inhumane heat.Pain.A gun in places I never wanted to admit.Grief.Dying?

Then two big beautiful amber eyes etched a mark into my brain. The eyes of my shadow man. I was in his arms and he cradled me like a baby, it wasn"t an Angel.

I jolted upright from the sounds of the monitor beeping out of control and squinted from the lighting, noticing that it was daylight. Something I hadn't seen in a long time. I was in a bed. I planted my hand against my chest to soothe my abrupt flutters and I winced. Ouch! There was a pinching ache and a tugging sensation at my hand. I looked down, seeing an IV pierced right in the little blue vein on my hand, wrapped in a clear bandage. And no wedding ring on my finger. I shuddered, knowing for sure that I definitely dreamt that. The IV lead to a heart monitor beside me. There were other cords and tangles from my body. My eyes widened realising some were on my head.

I panted, taking a second to process as my breath escalated in fear. Where was I? Where was Huxley? What had happened? Dizziness provoked me, but the adrenaline fought it off. I twisted my head around to try and identify where I was. I gasped and shot backward, seeing the maid was by my arm. I gulped.

"It's ok honey." Her soft voice hummed.

"Wu- ha? Whu?" I slurred. What in the ever-loving fuck did I just say? That should have been where am I? Where is he? Why was it so hard to speak? My voice was slow and broken. Like the time I had my molars taken out, the needle in my gums had made my lips and tongue do absurd things, and I couldn't speak clearly from the numbness. Had I had a fucking stroke?

"You're safe." She said. I glanced around the room again, soon realising that I was in Huxley's room, in his bed. It was different from how I remembered. Not everything was black, there was no cage, no chains, and no frame in the center of the room to hang people by ropes. The only telltale was the view from the window… the pine tree backdrop. One I would never forget. "Whu…" I slurred again. Where! Where is Huxley! Gah!

"I'll answer all that shortly, but you must steady. Your heart rate is going out of control, Miss Pierce." The maid exclaimed. I frowned, watching her fill something in the tube that went through my IV. The beeps slowed in an instant. I pulled in a heavy inhale until I was dizzy again and blew out my frustration. I was safe.

My heart dropped to the pace it was when I was asleep. Hopefully now that I was calm, she would fill me in on all the details. But she ushered off to do something near a medicine cabinet. Huxley"s room had changed, there were books on shelves, lamps beside the bed, a second bed, a medicine cabinet, and a wheely trolly full of medical equipment. Like the one full of food that she had brought into my room when I was held there.

She ushered back with a yellow folder and placed it in my hand. It had a name I didn't recognise in big letters on the front.

Miss Vicky Kollens DOB: 18th January 1997Allergies: Nil Blood Type: B Negative

Who the hell was Vicky? I tried to speak again using every inch of concentration. "Vi-Key?" I squeaked. One word, but clear. The maid gestured to open it. I did and pulled out a sheet of what I assumed to be MRI scans. There were a few pages, with black-and-white radial images. I furrowed my brows in confusion, looking up between them and the maid, and then back down again. I had no idea what I was looking at, but I did notice that there was a thick, black blob on one section of the image. What did that mean? Who was Vicky? Why was I looking at brain scans for a Vicky Kollens?

The maid leaned in, dote laced in her eyes. "You've had a brain bleed Esmeralda." She whispered tenderly. "What?" I breathed, surprised that the word had come out exactly how it was intended. I took a further minute to process. That would explain my muttering. I mean it made sense, I was hung upside down for God knows how fucking long and locked away in a sauna for five days.

Stabbed. And left to rot. Realisation rippled through me and I jolted my hand to my thigh over the wound. Discovering that it had a thick padded bandage and a tube poking out of it, like a drain pipe. I breathed down the panic, looking back at the maid again.

"You will make a full recovery. But…"

"But?" I copied stuttery. She hesitated.

"We had to put you into an induced coma to help you. You were in a really bad way." Her sweet voice was genuine and sympathetic to my situation. Letting me truly believe that I was in no danger. Suddenly I felt dizzy again. How long had I been in a coma? Where was Huxley? Where was Damon? Did he see the video? At this rate, I had more questions than answers and I wasn't getting anywhere fast. A brain bleed? Shit. What else was there? And who was Vicky?

"Who. Is. Vicky?" I asked and then blew out rapidly.

She sighed and fluffed down her uniform nervously.

"We needed a file while we were in the hospital… so that you were not identified." Oh. "Oh?" I breathed. I was in the hospital? Why do I not remember? How long was the coma? And as though she saw the light bulbs above my head spark with questions she pulled out a clipboard from the bedside table.

"You've had other traumas… if you'd like me to read them out?" she asked hesitantly with every shred of sadness in her eyes.

"No, I don't." I confessed. I only wanted to know the answers to the questions I had in my head. I didn't need to hear the other traumas, I already knew. I was a pin cushion. Cuts here, wounds there, knives, guns, glass, rope, oxygen deprivation. I"d had it all. I"d had it everywhere. A specific memory washed over me, how could I forget? The knife to my pussy.

Mindlessly, I squeezed my thighs together, with no pain. Nothing. Other than the odd sensation of a tube between my legs that I didn"t notice earlier. I lifted the blanket and trailed my eyes down, seeing that I had two catheters in.

I trailed off. A brain bleed? Don't people die from those? What about the cuts? I pulled my wandering attention to take a good look at myself. The wounds Caine had dressed were merely pink scars, some darker than others. I trailed my finger to the burn mark on my chest from Ruby, which was nothing but a white smiley face now. Further up feeling the raised skin on my neck, no pain, just scars. Lifting closer to my mouth and feeling my cheek, a tender but healed cut trail. Unease riddled me, I had been here long enough for my wounds to heal. You"ll be okay. You"ll be okay.

Sadness hounded me and a tear freed from my eyes. My chest ached from the pain of my breaths ripping through my lungs. "You're going to be ok." The maid stood beside me again with a genuine smile on her lips. She comforted me in more ways than I could admit, but there was only one need that I truly desired. Him.

"How long. Have I been. In here?" I paced my sentence, smiling on completion. She returned the smile, but it was gone in a flash. "Three weeks." She whispered. I swallowed back my nausea, having no recollection of anything. I cocked my head, fixing a little more demanding approach.

"Where is Huxley?" I asked.

"Let's not worry about that just yet okay? You've been through enough. Let's keep you calm, and steady. I don't want your condition to worsen. Are you hungry?"

Hungry? Shit I hadn't had the thought. Come to think of it, if I had been here for three weeks, and not eaten possibly over a week before that… then it had been a solid month since I'd had food in my mouth. That was more surprising than learning I had been here for three-quarters of a month. I laughed involuntary to my cognizance, the smile reached my eyes and heat flooded my body in happiness, and then I wailed unintentionally. My body"s response to chronic overwhelm of feeling every possible emotion in as little as five minutes. But… in the answer to her question, yes. I was fucking starving.

"Oh, yes. Fam-ished." I admitted, rubbing my belly. Though, that didn't even scratch the surface. I suspected I could eat a whole horse. Maybe after I ate, and regained a little of myself then I would ask more questions. But for now… food, and rest. And a book. The maid nodded, happy to be of service. And put her hands up, gesturing to wait.

"I'll fetch you something. Okay? Please, do not move. It is paramount that you do not move, you aren"t ready. You are safe here until I return, okay?" She asked.

I agreed, not really paying too much attention… for my mind had wandered back to Huxley again. My thoughts were easy to wonder at the best of times, but under whatever juices she had filled me from within that IV only made it much worse.

"Wait." I called out. Remembering that a book would be nice to touch, smell, and read. "May I have. A book?" I pointed to one of the books on the shelf. It would be nice to lose myself and pass the time. I knew that reading would stop me from trailing off, or from trying to get out of here to find Huxley. She smiled and scampered to the full bookshelf, calling out a few names of authors. Some I knew, others I didn't until she stopped at one that I did know and brought it to me. I smiled so loud that you could hear it from the moon. This was bliss. A taste of normality.

Leaving this bed was now the last thing on my mind. The second I opened the page and drew in the inebriating smell of old paper, musky notes, and someone's blood sweat, and tears poured into the words, I sobbed happy tears and fell heavily into the pages of a romantic book of poems.