CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ALASKA
The quietbeep, beep, beepof the hospital room wakes me. Not that I could get much sleep with all of the noise in my head.
I groan and clear my throat. My brain hurts. Everything hurts. I try to move my arm, but a hand reaches out and touches mine.
“Lie still, honey. You just had surgery.”
“Mom?” I blink several times, trying to focus on my parents. “Dad?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” my dad—who rarely uses terms of endearment—takes my other hand and squeezes.
“Where’s Styx?”
They exchange a pained glance.
The breath catches in my lungs. “What? He’s okay, right? Where is he?”
I grab the blanket and attempt to toss it off me, determined to go and find him myself if they won’t give me answers, but the pressure in my skull intensifies every time I move.
“We don’t know yet,” Mom says.
“You don’t know what yet?”
“We don’t know what’s happening,” Mom continues. “Viv is waiting to hear from the surgeon.”
“The surgeon?”Oh, God. Panic seizes my gut. “What’s wrong with him? Mom, I need to find Viv. I need to be there when he wakes up.”
“You’re in recovery. You focus on getting better,” my dad barks.
“In a few hours when he’s out of surgery, then you can see him.” Mom gives me a tight smile, but I can tell by the pitiful expression on her face that she doesn’t know if that’s true.
“I love him, Dad,” I snap. My head spins. Nausea roils through my gut. I’ve exerted too much energy, and the heavy tug of the morphine tries to pull me under. “Mom, tell him.”
“I know. It will all be okay. Your surgery went great, honey. You did so well. Your dad and I are very proud of your bravery. Just get some rest.” Mom pats my hand as if I’m a small child throwing a tantrum.
I don’t want to be coddled and cajoled. I want to know where my boyfriend is. I want to see him, touch him, and know that he’s okay.
Oh God, Styx. Please don’t die.