Page 111 of Wicked Deceit
Me: Still nothing yet.
I stare at my phone in the boys only group chat and sigh. They must have passed out down the hall because no one answers. I take a peek at Seger, who passed out on the couch over an hour ago with his arms crossed over his chest and his loud snores filling the room. I shake my head and snort. He complains about my snores and sleep murmurs all the time. He’d grumble and flip me off if he could only see himself now.
Kaycee’s parents took off searching for dinner in the cafeteria, promising to return soon with food for us. They begged us to accompany them and eat, but we politely declined. The moment disappointment clouded Mrs. Cole’s eyes, I felt terrible, but I can’t physically leave this room knowing she will wake soon, and I can’t let her be alone. There’s a gravitational pull keeping me here, and I want to be the first person she sees when she wakes from her two-week slumber. I can only imagine the confusion she’ll feel when she peels her eyes open and realizes she’s in the hospital with a tube down her throat and with multiple injuries bruising her body. So, I sit in the chair beside her bed, staring at her like a creep, waiting for any sign she’s awake.
Faint yellow and black bruises line her face and body from fighting for her life. My gut churns at the constant reminder of what they did to her. Soon, though, the bruises will fade, and her injuries will heal. We’ll be here for her every step of the way
Drifting my finger over her cheek, I trace the faint freckles popping through the bruises. I trace over the tape holding the tube in her mouth and continue the journey down her chin.
“You’re going to wake up soon, baby girl,” I whisper in a command, hoping to coax her out of her coma. Leaning in, I plant my lips against her cheek and linger for longer than necessary. I ache to feel her in my arms once again. “We’ve missed you so much. You’re our glue.” My voice catches when I admit what she is to us, and I close my eyes and count to ten. Tears fall freely down my face, falling to the blanket covering her body, but I can’t hold the words back any longer. I’d drop to my knees and beg God to take me instead and bring Kaycee back if I thought it would do me any good. “Without you, we are shattering into pieces. Please wake up. Please come back to us,” I beg with all I have, hoping her mind hears my pleas and lets her return to us sooner than later. I know it’s silly, but I need her now. I need to know she will wake up and come back to us.
Leaning my forehead down on the bed, I take several deep breaths through my nose and out through my mouth. Two weeks without hearing her voice or seeing her beautiful eyes on us. Two entire weeks without her here with us. I miss her smile. I even miss the way her mind drifts off mid-sentence. I just miss her so damn much that my entire body aches to have her back here with us. Mind. Body. And soul. This whole time, I’ve kept myself together with safety pins and thin pieces of thread. It was for everyone else’s sake that I stayed strong so that they could fall apart. As the clock ticks and the days go by, it’s getting harder and harder to keep my tears at bay.
Deep in my heart, I know she’ll wake up soon. Once she does, our nightmare won’t be over. It’ll keep coming back to us repeatedly through dreams and memories. It’s pieces of our history we can’t erase, much to our dismay. We’d erase our tragedy entirely if it were up to us, only leaving the good times. If only….
I snuggle into the blanket under my cheek and take a deep breath. My mind wanders to dangerous places, but finally, sleep takes hold of me and pulls me under into a dreamless rest of nothingness.
My body jolts awake, awareness coming back to me. A shaky breath rolls through me when the feeling of a small hand runs through the longer strands of my hair, twirling between their fingers. I suck in a breath and slowly lift my head. There, staring back at me, are the eyes of the girl I’ve been desperate to hold in my arms.
“Kaycee,” I whisper, grasping her hand in mine. I run my lips along her knuckles, kissing every inch I can. She gives me a small, tired smile, nodding her head. “I’ve missed you so damn much,” I murmur, resting my forehead against hers.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” she says through a heavy rasp, making me realize the tube down her throat had disappeared. Jesus, I must have slept through the nurses coming to take them out. I slept through her parents probably celebrating and crying that Kaycee was awake. And all the while, I was laying here, dead to the world in a dreamless sleep, as they worked around me.
“You should have.” Tears burn down my cheeks. “Seriously, baby girl, I’ve been waiting for this moment to see those eyes again.” A tired smile blooms across her lips. She runs a finger down my cheek, brushing away my stray tears.
“What happened?” She whispers, imploring me with her curious eyes. She looks at the sling, holding my arm up with quivering lips. “Is Carter okay? Is Seger? Chase?” She asks in rapid fire as worry clogs her raspy throat.
I gulp air, squeezing her hand. “Everyone’s okay. A little hurt, but we are all okay. We were so worried about you—” My eyes close on their own as I catch my breath.
“They stabbed me,” she whispers in a frantic voice, like it’s all coming back to her. Tears pool in her eyes, falling over the edge, and cascade down her puffy, red cheeks.
Wiping away her tears, I nod. “Yeah, but we won,” I whisper, kissing the tip of her nose. “Shaw’s in jail, and the other two are dead.” Her eyes widen at the mention of his name and the fate of the other two.
“Dead? How?” she whispers, face falling with uncertainty.
“That’s not important right now,” I whisper, running my thumb along her cheek again. “We’ll get to that when you’re better, I promise. Just know, we’ve all been waiting here like lost little puppy dogs.” She snorts a breath, rolling her eyes.
“My lost little puppy dogs,” she says again, wincing at the pain in her throat. Reaching over, I grab her large cup of water and place the straw in her mouth. She hums in approval, wincing when the cool liquid grazes over her swollen throat.
“We’ll be any-fucking-thing you want us to be,” Seger says, rushing forward towards the bed.
His lips brush against her other temple, and his entire body shakes with the emotions we’ve kept locked tight. Tears leak out of his eyes, dripping down his chin and onto the covers.
“If I dressed you in kilts with bagpipes?” She teases, setting back to look into his eyes.
“Angel, I’ll wear it the proper way. Anything for you,” he says through a pained whisper, clasping her other hand into his. He holds onto her like she might slip away again.
“From here on out, we are going to be very protective assholes,” I whisper, earning another eye roll.
“You were already protective assholes,” she retorts with a tired smile.
And just like that, we are back to how it used to be. It’s like she never slept for two weeks, leaving us on the edge of a cliff without air. We’ve been breathless, sitting on pins and needles, waiting for this moment.
“Where are Chase and Carter?” She asks, narrowing her eyes at us.
“They’re in Carter’s room. He’s just down the hall,” I say, nodding my head toward his room.
“Okay,” she says, pulling away from us. With shaking hands, she pulls the covers from her body and attempts to sit up with a weakened groan.
