Page 61 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

Storm saved me.

I wince, bringing my free hand to my temple.

“Storm brought me?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed in a prolonged blink.

“Yes,” Mama says from my side. She hasn’t let go of my hand, and I don’t know who’s holding on to whom. “Storm walked into the emergency room with you in his arms. He saw you at the club and knew the guy you were with was up to no good. So when Storm tried to take you from him, the other guy didn’t like that too much.”

She chokes on the last part of the sentence.

“Hence the fall,” Ezra offers softly.

A fall…why don’t I remember any of this?

A flash—Storm’s face, his hands around me, his eyes filled with something I can’t quite name.

“I don’t remember,” I say, and that sense of panic returns.

Storm. Storm….

“Is Storm okay?” My scalp burns, and I realize my terrified look pulls on the stitches at my hairline.

Oh, god!

“It’s okay.” My mom strokes my hair gently. “You were pretty out of it when he brought you in, honey. You’ll remember in time. What matters is you’re safe.”

The word sits strangely on my chest, and I’m unsettled. Safe. I look at my family and friends around me. I don’t feel safe. I don’t feel safe at all. And why isn’t anyone telling me about Storm?

The sound of the door opening interrupts my thoughts, and my heart skips a beat as I look toward the entrance, but then it drops again.

A tall woman in a white lab coat glides into the room with an air of confidence that can only come from being really good at one’s job.

“Ah, I’m glad to see our VIP is awake.”

Her gentle smile puts me at ease when she comes to the side of my bed. I try to sit up to make room, and she settles her hip in the free space.

“I’m Doctor Elizabeth Swanson, and I’ve been the one taking care of you here. How are you feeling?” she asks, her voice low. I open my mouth to say something, anything, when another flash hits the front of my skull, and the pain in my head doubles.

“Would you like me to assess you privately?” Dr.Swanson asks, her voice still low. With my eyes closed and thoughts spinning, I nod.

“Yes, please,” I whisper.

She rises from my bed and, with friendly authority, says, “I need to assess my patient in private. Why don’t you folks head to the food hall downstairs? It’s probably the best hospital food I’ve ever eaten, and there’s gourmet coffee of any variety available from the barista.” Dr.Swanson extends her arm, effectively ushering my family to the door. No one argues.

“We’ll be back soon, baby girl,” Daddy says when he moves to the opposite side of my bed and leans over to kiss my temple. “Everything is gonna be just fine. God’s grace and mercy is sufficient.”

With another firm kiss, he pulls Mama into his arms before passing through the door.

“First, I want you to know all your labs have come back clear. The drugs found in your system have worn off, and all your scans look good.”

I swallow and blink, feeling…feeling something at the idea of someone drugging me.

Guilt and self-blame cover my shoulders like a heavy blanket.

I shouldn’t have drunk so much.

I should have been more careful—more aware.

I suck in a breath, letting my head fall back to the pillow.

---