Page 72 of Fighting for Lucy

He was special.

Very special.

“Lucy.”

The sound of her name startled her out of the hazy little bubble she’d somehow managed to float inside of, and her pain came roaring back. The cold against the wounds on her stomach, her chest, and her left breast made them sting like crazy, and the throbbing pain was more than enough to drive her insane.

“Luce, baby girl, answer me.”

Zander sounded worried, and she wanted to soothe away all his anxiety. Pepper kisses to his lips, and smooth her hands up and down his impressive abs, anything so long as he didn't sound so tortured and lost.

“Come on, honey, let me know you're okay.”

Yesterday, when they’d first woken up there, she’d called out to him like that several times before he finally answered. She’d begged and pleaded and wept, thinking that he was already gone, and now she wanted to answer, to assure him that she was okay, but she couldn’t seem to make her voice work.

Curses filled the courtyard, along with the jangle of a chain, and she realized that Zander was trying to get to her even though they both knew it was impossible.

“I'm … okay,” she slurred, her voice much weaker than she would have liked. But she was dehydrated, hypothermic, and had open wounds. It was the best she could do at the moment.

“I'm so sorry, Lucy.”

There was so much pain in Zander’s voice that tears flooded her eyes, spilling over and trailing icy paths down her cold cheeks.

Why did this have to happen to them?

Why couldn’t they have gotten their happy ever after?

Neither of them had even realized that they wanted one until they met each other, but now that they had, Lucy wanted it all. The whole white picket fence, big home with a pool, kids, and a dog, waking up each morning wrapped in the arms of the man you loved and going to sleep each night the same way, growing old with a partner by your side.

That should be their future.

Not this.

Not cold, and pain, and death.

She wanted to rage against the unfairness of it all, but honestly, she was too tired to bother.

But not too tired to offer what reassurances she could. “S’okay, Zander. Not your fault,” she murmured sleepily.

Now that she thought about it the pain was dulling a little, being overtaken by exhaustion.

Her eyes were too heavy to hold open, and they drifted closed, the pale blue of the sky disappearing. The cold had worn out her muscles after hours of shaking and now they felt heavy, but not unpleasantly so. And with the pain fading a little, maybe she could finally get some sleep.

Sleep.

That sounded so nice.

Almost magical.

It would be so wonderful to just drift away for a while, away from this hell hole, just disappear into a nice, big, cozy hole of peaceful, inky blackness.

“Stay awake for me, baby. I need you to stay awake, can you do that for me?”

Zander’s voice pierced holes in her little sleepy bubble, dragging her further back into reality. She wanted to fight against it, let go of everything, but the fear in his voice was like an anchor holding her there.

“I'm awake,” she mumbled.

“Good, good girl, you stay with me, okay? I know you're tired, and I know you're hurting, but I need you to stay with me. I know it’s not fair, but I can't let you go yet, you hear me? I need to keep you with me. I'm so damn sorry you got dragged into this, baby girl. I wish like hell I knew a way to get you out, and I’ll try, I promise you I’ll try, but you have to do your part, okay? And that means staying awake, it means staying with me. I need you,” he whispered the last part, but his words carried to her, and she pried her eyes open and turned her head so she could see him.

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