Page 60 of Last Hope
She let out a breath. “But he will be able to walk again?”
He nodded. “Of course he will. If he undergoes physical therapy then I’m sure both problems will be overcome.”
“Oh, thank God.” Victoria sat back in the chair with relief. To think, Savvy could have been so close to being unable to speak or walk. That would have been a terrible day in her life, to have a silent Savvy. She turned to look at Savvy. “So why aren’t you talking to me now, then if youcanspeak? What did I do to you?”
“You di’n do nny’thnnnnnn,” he said abruptly, angrily, and then clamped his mouth shut. His words were understandable to Victoria, but it still hurt to hear his voice come out loud and raspy, his words mumbled together. And when he talked, he was only able to open one side of his mouth while the other side remained clamped closed. It hurt her heart. And for a moment she felt joy prickle through her for the vengeance she had gotten him but it quickly washed away. Revenge over justice was never the answer.
“So stop ignoring me, Savvy,” she snapped at him. It wouldn’t do any good, she realized, to treat him any differently than she had treated him before. She wouldn’t sugar coat things or treat him like frail china. It would just piss him off and make him feel self-conscious. She would treat him as she always had—as her younger brother.
He attempted to smile at her but only one side of his mouth quirked up.
“So, you wanna do this physical therapy thing and get back on your feet?” Victoria asked him. Savvy nodded. She turned to the doctor. “Got any therapists around here?”
“I know of one. She’s had excellent results with all of her patients.” He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out a card. “Her name is Daisy Fuentes-Smith. Here’s her card with her number. Once Joshua gets better and his outer wounds heal then we can give her a call together if you want.”
“That would be great, doc.” Victoria Phillipe smiled at him. He returned the gesture, bid his goodbye and left them alone. She turned to her best friend. He avoided her gaze. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit you,” Victoria whispered sadly. “To be honest, I’ve been avoiding you.” He raised an eyebrow as if to ask why. “Because,” she answered. “I couldn’t bear the thought of coming back, of looking at your motionless body without feeling guilty aboutfeeling guiltyfor killing Azizi.”
“Whaaa....?”
“I feel guilty about killing Azizi and I just couldn’t stand the thought of coming here and pretending to be happy that I avenged you, okay?”
In the moment she had killed him, a strange satisfaction overcame her but it was quickly replaced with revulsion and guilt as she hacked up his blood from her mouth. He may have been a murderer and hell, she had killed many murderers but it didn’t mean she’d sleep any easier at night with their blood on her hands.
She felt a warm hand softly squeeze her own. She looked up at Savvy. He was staring at her with concern in his bright green eyes. “You mmmoookyyy?” His words drawled out slowly, hoarsely.
She smiled at her best friend and pulled him over to her in a hug. “Yeah, Burns. I’m okay.”
And she held back her tears as she tried to believe the lies that burnt like acid on her tongue. She tried to believe it was true, that she was in fact, okay.
* * *
The sweet,rich tang of blood laced with peppermint burned down her throat and into her stomach, causing a warm sensation to prickle throughout her entire body. The sensation interrupted her dreams of blood and death, nightmares of Azizi.
She sat up abruptly and coughed loudly, the sound echoed across the room. When she finally came to her senses, Isis looked around the room and took in her surroundings. It was dark, but not dark enough at blinding point. She made out a chair and a small figure sitting in it. Her vision was groggy and she couldn’t make out a face.
She felt something cold touch her lips and she jerked back instantly. “Isis, it’s okay.” The voice belonged to her Soul Mate. Isis relaxed and felt the coldness press against her lips again. This time she welcomed it and realized it was a cup and that she was drinking blood, laced with something minty that calmed her stomach, which she hadn’t realized up until that moment, was in knots.
“Thank you,” she whispered in a hoarse voice then coughed again.
“How are you feeling?” Anya asked.
Isis’ answer didn’t come immediately. Howwasshe feeling? It was hard to tell. She was sore all over and her legs felt like they were being pricked with a million tiny needles. Her thirst was powerful; she felt her veins turn black against her skin but all of that she barely noticed. She had begun to remember everything that had happened.
Azizi…Victoria…it had all been a blur until it wasn’t. She remembered clearly now. She remembered how the FBSI agent had attacked her younger brother, how she had clenched his head between her gaping, savage jaws and killed him. Isis remembered his body covered in a sheet, head turned towards her smiling at his sister for the last time before she gave in to the darkness.
Now, she was awake and somewhere she didn’t recognize and the pain in her chest was too hard to bear. Isis doubled over and pulled her knees up and under her chin, hyperventilating into them. Her brother was dead. She had found him, only to lose him.
“It hurts, Anya!” Isis cried out. “My chest hurts!”
Anya was fast. She was thrusting the cup to Isis’ lips again and forcing her to drink the dark liquid. “This will help ease the pain.” And it did, but only for a moment. Isis had to keep drinking, she had to feel numb, but she couldn’t. There was a terrible sadness in her heart, a hole that hadn’t been as big as before. She reached out, cried out, though for what she wasn’t sure.
“Isis, it’s okay, it’s okay!” A second voice sounded. A voice so familiar that Isis had to stop and look up. The small figure who had been sitting on the chair became suddenly so clear. It felt like a lifetime ago since Isis had last seen her.
With her wild, untamable red hair to her strikingly beautiful blue eyes. She was wearing a dark knitted sweater; her hair was hanging over her shoulders as she stared at Isis with an intense expression.
“Esmeralda?” Isis asked, squinting to get a better look.
“It’s me.”
