Page 66 of Quiet Rage
“Tamson?” I call out, since it doesn’t occur to me until too late that she might get freaked out when she hears me down here. “It’s just me. I have good news.”
And a dead body, but she doesn’t have to see him.
No answer. Could she be asleep? I don’t hear the shower running up there as I take the stairs. The light is on in her room, the door is open. She must have heard me come in.
“Tamson. Are you—” The question dies in my throat when I find her lying on the bed, still dressed except for her shoes, completely motionless. Not even so much as a twitch when I’m talking full volume.
I know what she did before I spot the bottle on the nightstand.
“No. No!” I’m across the room in three long strides, picking her head up in one hand, slapping her cheeks with the other. “Wake up. Wake up! What did you do? Why did you do this?”
When that doesn’t work, I shake her hard enough to make her head flop like a ragdoll. “God, no. Please!” But God doesn’t answer. I don’t deserve mercy. She’s dying, or dead, and I couldn’t stop it.
I will not accept this.
Tamson…I cradle her against my chest, lifting her off the bed, carrying her down the stairs as slowly and carefully as I can when what I want to do is run. I can’t risk hurting her, not now. “You’re going to be fine,” I tell her, carrying her out to the truck, placing her in the passenger seat and buckling her in before running around to the other side.
“You’re going to be fine,” I insist, peeling away from the curb. Her head lolls like she’s already gone. But I won’t accept that. I push the idea away with both hands.
Because I can’t lose her now. Not like this. The cars around me are a blur thanks to the pressure I put on the gas pedal, punching the horn over and over to warn anyone in front of me to get the hell out of the way. I need to get her to the hospital.
All I can do is hope it's not too late.
Chapter 30
Tamson
I feellike I’ve been asleep for a long time, but it’s still not enough. My head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, my eyelids are heavy, my throat hurts, and my mouth is really dry. I’m not ready to wake up, not ready to face whatever this day may bring, but there is something tugging at the back of my mind. A small voice telling me to get up.
Sucking in a deep breath, I blink my eyes open. Disoriented, I look around the white, unfamiliar room.
“Hey.”
Kellen’s voice draws me to focus on him. My gaze lands on his big frame sitting in a chair next to my bed. A hospital bed, I realize quickly.
I look down at myself, checking for any injuries. I don’t find any, but I see a hospital gown, and there is an IV stuck in my arm. “What happened?” I ask confused. My voice comes out raspy, and it hurts a little to talk.
Kellen reaches for something on my bedside table. It’s a clear cup of water with a straw stuck inside of it. Sliding his free handunder my head, he helps me lift up enough so I can take a sip. I catch the straw between my lips and suck a few gulps of water down.
When I’m done, he gently places my head back on the pillow and sits the cup back on the table.
“You don’t remember?” Kellen questions, concern written all over his face.
“I…” A lump forms in my throat as memories of what I did slowly come back to me.
“I found you just in time,” Kellen explains. “I brought you here and they had to pump your stomach.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.Sorry I didn’t die? Sorry you had to drive me here?
Kellen shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. Just swear to me you won’t ever try something like that again.”
“Why do you suddenly care about what happens to me?” The question sounds more like an accusation.
“You don’t think I care if you live or die?”
“I don’t know what’s going on in your head.” I wish I had an inkling of what he is thinking.
“I care about you…a lot,” he confesses with such conviction, I almost believe him.
