Page 40 of Desolation
I quickly cross the distance between us and inspect his head for any injuries, checking his pupils to see if they’re dilated. While checking for wounds, I think about how much it would upset the group to hear he had turned violent. I don’t want to cause more strife in the group right now and Ash has protected me my whole life. I owe it to him to not bash him for this one, weak moment.
As I complete my inspection, I feel the migraine from hell coming on and leave Ash resting on the floor. I can’t movehim right now and in case hedidinjure his head.
I rummage through the bathroom cabinets, hoping the inn’s left some medicines for their guests. Coming up empty, I curse myself for forgetting the medicine at our house. Maybe Hale packed a first aid kit. I go to leave the room and ask him, knowing I can always count on him to have whatever supplies we needed.
Before I can open the door, my brain feels like it’s succumbing to what I imagine an aneurism would be like and I drop to my knees, not having the energy to stand any longer. A migraine has never come on this hard or this fast.
Trying to fight my way through the pain, I take deep breaths as my hands clench at my side.
Whatever this is, you can get through it. Come on, Zedd.
I quickly lose my battle and let the pain pull me into a blissful unconsciousness.
Chapter Nine
Lana
I wake up and feel like I’m suffering from the worst hangover of my life. I struggle to take deep breaths and almost groan in frustration before realizing my face is buried in a pillow.
Smooth, Lana.
Real smooth.
As I pick my head up, I realize my back is exposed as the air conditioning vent blows cool air down, causing a chill to break out on my skin.
Where am I? Why is my shirt lifted?
Before I lose myself to panic, I take a moment to center my breathing and survey my surroundings. When I see Hale passed out in the bed next to me, my body instantly relaxes, knowing he would never let anything happen to me. We must have made it to the inn I distantly remember hearing them talk about before I passed out in his arms.
Discarded and bloody washcloths lay on the floral printed armchair nearby. He must have cleaned my back while I was unconscious.
Thinking of how kind Hale was to take care of my wound, even after I had been nothing but a bitch to them earlier, leaves me with a sick feeling. Leo was right—Ihadbeen a bitch and lashed out at the only people who understood the pain of what I was going through at the time. Instead of comforting them or letting them comfort me, I made this whole thing so much harder on all of us.
Grief does strange things to the mind. It causes you to act irrationally and in ways you would never imagine yourself doing.
I owe them all the world’s biggest apology and a lot of hugs.
Maybe more than a hug if we manage to havethe talkthat we had planned on having yesterday. Obviously, things hadn’t gone according to plan and I’m not really sure where that leaves us. After the way I had treated them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they decide not to pursue me. They deserve better.
Would it even be appropriate to bring this conversation up after everything that had happened? We have much bigger things to worry about.
Burial or cremation—I guess that’s my biggest concern at this point. I feel like Beth would have loved to have her ashes scattered in the wind, free to go anywhere in nature that they wished. My heart swells at the thought, causing me to smile lightly. I rub away the stray tear that streams down my cheek. This is a decision we need to make as a group but that’s what I’m leaning towards.
I sit up and pull my blood-stained shirt down, trying to be as quiet as possible in my movements so as to not wake up Hale. Lightly getting to my feet, I walk over to my teal duffel bag and rummage through it to find pajamas, the memory of teal sunflowers coming to mind.
I shake it away, continuing my search for clothes. Upon finding them, I look down at my body and take in the bloodied and ripped clothing. I’m desperate to get back in bed but I need a quick shower.
Padding over to the bathroom, I make my way inside and leave my bundle of clean clothes on the porcelain sink top, stripping out of the mangled clothes and bikini. Throwing them into the trash as Hale had clearly done with his, I feel a weight lifted at the thought of never seeing them again.
Looking at the mirror, I check myself out for the first time since my world has gone to shit. Squinting at my reflection, I move closer and examine my eyes, which appear to be brighter than normal and the color swirling slightly. My hair seems fuller, longer and shinier, despite the random debris knotted in it. Brushing the back of my fingers down my cheek to rub off a dirt marking, my fingers glide against the smoothest skin, reminding me of velvet.
I must not be fully awake yet because all of this is not possible.
Tilting my face to the side and up and down, I take in how beautiful I appear but instantly stop when I see a blemish under my chin that has never been there before. It looks like a wound that has healed and scarred from pierced skin.
Goddess, what type of hangover am I suffering from?
Wait … Goddess.
