I was required to spend the night in the hospital for observation. After my parents and Muriel and Drew made sure I was fine, they left so I could rest. The painkillers the nurse gave me made me feel woozy, and my head spun like I was riding a tilt-a-whirl. All I wanted to do was sleep.
I wasn’t sure how long I slept. When I opened my eyes, it was dark outside. A single nightlight shone in my room, just enough that I could see him slouching in the chair across the small hospital room.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“I should have been there.” Chay scooted his chair closer to the bed. He laid his head on the bed and held my hand to his mouth. His lips tickled my skin when he spoke. “Do you need anything? Are you in pain? Should I get the nurse?”
“I have what I need.” I reached out and pulled him to me by the collar of his shirt. He kissed me softly, holding back like he was afraid I was going to break. I pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. It made me feel heady, alive. The room tilted and spun.
He leaned back and looked at me. “They said you’re going home tomorrow.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just a little sore, but the painkillers here are out of this world, wicked good.”
“What happened?” Chay cupped my face with his hand and rubbed his thumb over my cheek.
“A vision.”
“You know, you’re supposed to keep the people safe, but then you’re supposed to get out of the way, too.” He grinned.
“Yeah, I’ll remember that the next time someone tries to shank me.”
His grin fell away. He looked miserable. “I’m so sorry, Milayna.”
“There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
He shook his head. “I could have been there for you. I wasn’t.”
I heard someone at the door clear their throat. “Am I interrupting?”
I pushed the button on the bed to turn on the lights. Squinting against the bright light that pierced through the darkened room, I saw him. He stood in the doorway with a large vase of roses and an obscene number of balloons.
Xavier.
“No,” I said.
Yeah, you are.
“Yes,” Chay grumbled. I pulled him to me for another kiss. That seemed to placate him.
“I’ll just drop these off and go. I wanted to see for myself that you were okay,” Xavier said, looking at me. “You look pale.”
“It’s the lovely gown. Pea green isn’t my color.” I picked at the hospital gown and frowned.
“You can pull off any color, Milayna,” Xavier murmured.
Chay shot him an angry glare.
“Visiting hours are over, gentlemen,” a burly nurse said, walking by my door.
“I guess that’s our cue.” Xavier hesitated a moment before smiling. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
He walked out the door with a backward glance toward Chay, who’d already moved in to kiss. He didn’t seem too worried about the end of visiting hours.
***
I’m running. He’s back there; I can hear his footsteps. They’re getting louder, closer.
“Milayna,” he taunts. “I’m coming for you.”
His footsteps grow faster. I push myself to keep running. My breathing is heavy, my legs rubbery. My heart is pounding a painful staccato against my ribs. I need to stop. I can’t. I don’t.
He’s here to kill me.
Running into my house, I slam and lock the door behind me. I stare at it… waiting.
The door handle rattles, and my stomach drops. I need to call the police. Turning to grab the phone, I stumble backward. He’s looking down at me. A sneer mars his otherwise perfect face.
Jake.
He jabs something at me. I look down and see the metal handle of a knife sticking out of my stomach. Blood seeps around it, dripping a steady rhythm on the toe of my white tennis shoe.
He jerks his arm back, and I feel the blade slice through my flesh a second time as he rips it out of my body. I cover the wound with my hand, staring at the blood oozing between my fingers. Red and warm, it stains them.
Shocked, I look up. He stands in front of me, smiling, the bloody knife dangling from his fingers. Not Jake.
Chay.
I screamed and kicked my legs to free them of the sweat-soaked bed linens tied around them. My arms flailed. Something held them back, something pinned me in. I pushed against the metal bars.
“Milayna,” an unfamiliar voice called, and I shrunk away from it. “It’s okay. You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital. You’re safe.”
The hospital? I remember.
I stopped struggling. I wasn’t tied down. It was my IV and other medical equipment strewn through the room.
A cord wrapped around my finger, monitoring who knows what. A cuff around my arm that measures my blood pressure. Bet that’s outta sight right now.
Feeling liquid seep onto the sheets, I look down. I was sure I’d ripped a stitch or two and would see red blood staining the bedsheets, but the liquid was clear.
“Oh, you’ve pulled your IV out.” The nurse grabbed the IV tube and pinched it off. “Maybe the doctor will let us keep it out and we won’t have to stick you again.”
“That’d be good.”