Page 207 of Auctioned

Torn from the inside.

With my vision darkening around the edges.

With bile rising in my throat. With what’s left of my soul preparing for the worst.

I turn around.

Drop to my knees.

I should check for her pulse. Should press on her chest to stop the bleeding.

Though it looks like it’s stopped on its own.

My body has other plans.

My hands cradle her face. Her soft cheeks. Her delicate jaw. My thumbs find her lips and swipe them.

That’s what will keep her alive. Forcing her back to life. To me.

“Ophelia.” Her eyes are closed, but?—

But—

Her hand reaches up. Half an inch off the ground.

“Ophelia.” I bury my fingers in her face. My voice is rough. Demanding. Ordering her to stay alive. “You’re sorely mistaken if you think you’re getting away from me. Come back to me.Come the fuck back. I’m not doing this life without you, you hear?”

“James,” she mumbles as her hand slides up to my wrist.

The other one goes to her chest.

The corners of her lips curl up. Barely.

“Shh, baby.” I stroke her cheeks. Reverently. Adoringly. I still sound like the bastard that I am. My voice remains harsh and emotionless. The voice that made her fall for me. The voice that makes her bend to my will. “Rest. As long as you’re back, you can rest. We have a doctor on staff, remember?”

Her eyes flutter. Lids heavy.

I have to detach one hand from her. Have to shove it into my sweats pocket. Reach for my phone.

Fuck, I have to move the other one too. Stop the bleeding.

I press my hand on top of the one she has over her chest.

Something isn’t right. Something’s out of place.

The smell. It’s strange.

This must be what happens when a person loses their sanity. They imagine things.

“The ICU room we have in the backyard? You remember that too?” I talk to her instead of drowning beneath layers of fear. “Our doctor will take you there. You’re going to be just fine. We’ll take care of you until the paramedics get here.”

When I built the room right next to the staff quarters, I considered how insane it might look. How paranoid. Then again, my father might still be here if he had one.

“No… No need.” Her eyes open. The fathomless dark pools find me. “I’m fine. Hurt, but fine.”

Shit. She’s hallucinating.

The phone rings. One. Two.

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