Page 47 of Petals of Blue: Part Two
Fuck.Now I feel bad. How the hell did that happen?
Ellis glances at each of us, then checks his clipboard. "I just came to let you know a different nurse will be taking over for me."
"What? Why?"If Felix scared this poor guy away...
Ellis gives me a tired smile. "I'm off for the next week. Anyway, thank you for calling out my BS. Sometimes it's hard to rein in all the hurt, you know?"
Then he's just gone. Right out the door without a backward glance.
"What the fuck?" Roman mutters, staring at the door in confusion.
Something rustles behind me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My body knows what's happening before I do.
"I...g-get...it." Blue's raspy, broken voice wraps around me and pulls me right into her sleepy orbit.
"Blue!" we all gasp out, rushing to flutter our hands around her like a bunch of weirdos.
Her eyes are barely open, but I still notice her small flinch at the sound of our voices. Or maybe the fast movements, I don't know. Either way, I crouch, not wanting to scare her.
Unable to help myself, I wrap my warm hand around her frozen wrist as gently as I possibly can. I just need to feel close to her.
She wheezes, and I feel my eyes widen. "No more talking, pretty girl," I beg quietly. "Somebody press the button."
Blue doesn't move except for her eyes as she takes us all in. I'm not sure how much she can see with how dim the lighting is, and considering the fact that her eyes are only cracked.
"Sweetheart," Felix croaks, but doesn't say anything else.
Roman also kneels. Instead of staring at her like I am, he rests his forehead on her hip.He needs a moment.
Jared's petting her hair, but he's careful not to run his fingers through the snarled strands. They're caked with mud and dead weeds. I'm sure there are otherthingsin there, but I ignore the blood.
Thankfully, Roman cleaned himself up in the sink of one of the bathrooms right when we got here. Blue seems to have been wiped down enough to tend to her wounds, but she definitely needs a good shower, then a hot bath for her aches.
I startle at the sound of the door closing, but Jimstays quiet and calm as he steps up to the foot of Blue's bed. "Ms. Bennett, you're awake."
She barely glances at the doctor, making me worry that she's falling asleep again. Jim must notice because he taps his pen on the bed rail. "You can sleep all you want in just a few minutes. I have water and a few other things coming to start soothing that throat of yours."
Jim glances around at us while thinking through his next words. He has a trauma victim lying in front of him. I'm glad he's talking slowly and keeping his tone gentle.
"Blue, you know these men?" She nods subtly, her face twisting into a slight grimace. "Do you want them here?" Another sad nod, this one more obvious. "Do I have your consent to talk about your injuries and what you'll need to heal with them here? You'll need some help when I discharge you in a few days."
Again, there's no hesitation when she nods. Her eyes even grow wider like she's surprised Jim would ask her that. "Y-yees," she wheezes, drawing the word out with a sigh. "P-please."
"Okay, honey," the older man acknowledges, face softening for Blue. "You just rest your voice. If you want to say something, you can type it or write it. I know your fingers must be sore, but we need to aggravate your throat as little as possible."
Metaphorically, I'm buckling myself in for the emotional torment we're about to experience.What happened to you, my Blue?
Thirty-Four
BLUE
Nobody wants to hear about all the shit their body has been through for the past I don't even know how many days. And nobodywants to hear thatespeciallywhen they're in tremendous pain and struggling to stay awake.
To be honest, I zone out a little at the beginning while he talks about being dehydrated, starved, and in serious need of warming up. But when the doctor mentions my concussion, the bruise on my cheek, and the laceration on my forehead, that final moment of normalcy I had comes rushing back to me.
I force my heart to stay steady so as not to send the testosterone around me into a tizzy, but god, just the fucking mention of being punched and falling to the ground is enough for me to remember the loudcrackas my face hit the concrete.
Sprawled on the ground outside the theater, I was so fucking ready for my life to end.Looking back and really thinking about how prepared I was to let it all go makes me want to cry.
