Page 87 of The Burdens We Share
Aria asks, “Has anyone seen Selene?”
Brody answers, “She went to the bathroom a while ago and never came back.”
Aria’s brows knit together with worry, “Should we check on her?”
Brody nods, “Yeah, let’s go.”
Harvey grunts and Brody stops, turning on her heel and smiling at him softly, “I promise I won’t get kidnapped again by a deranged stalker. The bathroom is just down the hall.”
Aria adds, “Plus we’re using the buddy system.”
Harvey dips his chin and Brody walks over to Aria. “Buddy system,” he emphasizes, reminding the girls to not leave each other’s sides.
Brody responds by grabbing Aria’s hand and raising it high in the air for everyone to see as they both exit the room and make their way down the hall leaving Harvey, Slater, and I with an unconscious Ivory.
Slater frowns, “What they went through-”
Harvey cuts him off, “They’ll never go through it again. He’s dead.”
An expression of rage takes over Slater’s face, “He could’ve killed them. If we had gotten there only minutes later, they could all be dead right now. How are you both not freaking the fuck out?”
“I am freaking the fuck out. Just on the inside where nobody can see it,” I snap.
Harvey adds, “Personally, I’m trying not to think about the ‘what ifs’ because the minute I do, my blood pressure tends to rise and I want to bring that piece of shit back from the dead only so I can kill him again myself.”
Slater sighs, rubbing his face, “I’m sorry. I’m just still anxious over thinking they could’ve been dead.”
“But they aren’t,” Harvey reminds him. Reminds me too.
The heart rate monitor starts beeping, drawing my immediate attention. Her heart is beating faster, stronger. I look down at her face just as her thick lashes start to flutter open. My eyes widen with anticipation and I rise from my seat, hovering over her immediately. When her eyes connect with mine, it feels like I’m breathing again for the first time in three days. The remnants of my heart start to stitch themselves back together and a weight lifts off of my shoulders.
Her jaw moves and she moans like she’s trying to speak, but she winces and coughs around the tube in her throat. Her hand reaches up and I grab it, stopping her. “Don’t move, baby. Let me get a nurse.”
“I got it,” Slater rushes out of the room and returns seconds later with a nurse who paces over to Ivory’s side and removes the tube from her throat.
Ivory coughs and the nurse sits her up, reaching for a plastic cup on the side table and filling it with water. Ivory chugs it down and empties it, handing it back to the nurse who sets itdown on the table. “I’ll let the doctor know she’s awake,” the nurse explains before she exits the room.
I look down at Ivory and watch as she takes in her surroundings, her eyes roaming over the hospital room and the faces of Slater and Harvey. She looks frantic, panicked. When her eyes land on me she seems to relax and it sends hope rushing through me, but I remind myself that look may be replaced by hate when she finds out the truth. She reaches for my hand and squeezes, “Aria and Brody?” She asks, worry in her eyes.
“Safe,” I answer, reassuring her.
Harvey steps closer to the bed, “Safe because of you. Thank you.” He’s talking about what Brody and Aria told us. That when they split up and ran in three different directions, it was because Ivory knew Calvin would leave them alone and come after her only.
Slater also steps up, “Yes. Thank you. I’m so glad you’re okay,” his expression is warm as he offers her a gentle smile.
She returns it, “Thank you.”
Harvey offers, “We’ll give you some privacy.” And we watch in silence as he and Slater exit the room, closing the door behind them and leaving Ivory and I alone.
My face falls when the door closes and my stoicism wavers. “Ivory, I’m so so-”
“Shut up,” she interrupts me. Her face is hard, stern like a teacher reprimanding a student. This is it. This is where she tells me she never wants to see me again and that she hates me. I welcome it because it’s what I deserve even though it feels like I’m dying slowly. “Do not ever tell me you’re sorry,” she adds, softness in her voice and something that sounds a lot like empathy.
I give her a confused expression, “What? You can’t possibly mean that. Not after what I have to tell you. Calvin was targetingyou because of-”
She cuts me off again, “Because he blamed you for Lita’s death. I remember the story.”
She knows? How could she possibly know and still be able to look me in the eye let alone hold my hand? “You know that he went after you because of me?”
