Page 197 of Into These Eyes
Through my own tears, through the wracking sobs that send shockwaves of pain through my body, she forces me to look at her.
“Gavin!” she screams on a whisper, her trembling fingers tightening on the hinges of my jaw. “Gavin, listen to me.” She leans in so close, her breaths cool my tears. “She’s okay. She’s alive. She’s fine.”
I know she’s only saying that to calm me down. And it’s fucking brutal.
My eyes ping to the TV screen above the bed. She follows my gaze, her face coming back, head frantically shaking.
“No. No, Gavin. It’s not true. It’s a false press release. The cops are trying to bait … It doesn’t matter. Gavin. I promise you, it’s not true. She’s alive and she’s so worried about you.”
I stare at her, wanting to believe every word coming from her mouth. One thing stops me.
“If she was alive, she’d be here,” I croak.
“She’s in protective custody. She can’t be here for you until this thing’s done.”
I don’t believe her. Nothing makes any sense. “Then why … why’re you here?”
She looks at me with such confusion in her eyes, my heart sinks.
“I’m here, dickwad, because you’ve been fucking shot. I turn up for my family. Deal with it.”
I stare into her eyes, desperate to believe her, but my only family wasn’t there for me when I needed him. I can’t help but doubt her words, can’t help but think she’s only here because Jamie’s dead.
Before I can argue with her, soft soled footsteps race into the room and someone gasps. I don’t look at the source of the sound. Instead, I follow Anika’s eyes as they latch onto my torso.
Blood blooms on the hospital gown covering my torso and, even as I watch, it grows wider, darker.
Then a nurse is on her knees, hiking up the gown to inspect the source of the blood.
Anika’s gaze snaps back to mine. “Well, fuck,” she says, anguish still bright in her eyes even as a glimmer of the girl I’ve come to know shines through. She scrunches up her nose. “I just got an eyeful of my brother’s junk. You realise I’m scarred for life now, right?”
As more staff enter the room, I hear the nurse say I’ve ripped open my stitches. Then there’s a pinch in my arm, and that wonderful floating feeling sings through my body.
Before it overtakes me, I chuckle, watching Anika grin back at me, one hand still on my jaw, the other gripping my hand. There’s no way she could crack a joke if her sister was dead.
I stare into her eyes. And I see truth.
Letting it in, I bring it with me into the darkness.
When I wake again, I find Anika sleeping in that uncomfortable chair beside my bed, the TV remote firmly clutched in her hand.
Turning away, I stare at the ceiling, trying to piece together what happened. I suppose it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Jamie’s alive.
My heart squeezes tight, remembering all too well the excruciating pain of believing I’d lost her. It’s not like I haven’t experienced loss before. My mother’s death, my father’s decision to abandon me. But somehow, the intensity of losing Jamie was … soul crushing.
Even though I know she’s alive, the trauma’s still fresh and overwhelming.
My mind twists and turns, thinking the unthinkable, then latching onto it anyway. I’m not sure I can go through losing her again. Loving her like I do means annihilation. She might have survived this time, but will she ever really be safe? Is anyone? She could die in a car accident, get run over on a pedestrian crossing, crushed by a falling tree. She could get terminal cancer. Or she might decide at some point in the future that she doesn’t love me after all.
The thoughts race around and around until I realise they all lead to one thing, and one thing only.
One day, Iwilllose her forever.
There’s only one way to prevent that from happening.
She has to lose me first.
This thing called love is utterly fucked up.
