Keeping Gemma (Holiday Cove 2)

I sent a prayer up, but I knew we were like a falling rock. The water was our best bet at softening our inevitable crash. The bluff…not so good.

“Talia!”

14

“Talia!” My eyes ripped open and I was instantly blinded by bright lights that blocked out everything else from sight. I shut my eyes again and instead, threw all my energy into sitting up, only to find that I couldn’t move a muscle without agony threating to pull me back under. “Talia? Talia!”

I muttered her name over and over again. Can she hear me?

Voices called out numbers, stats, data, overpowering my cries.

No one was listening to me.

“Talia…”

“Mr. Rosen, my name is Gemma. Can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes for me, please.” I opened one eye, this time squinting at the blinding light above me. I slowly opened the other. “That’s good. So you can hear me. Can you talk? Can you tell me what you’re feeling?”

It took a moment to adjust my eyes to the lights and I found the source of the voice. The commanding voice belonged to a brunette wearing a stethoscope around her neck.

“Yeah,” I whispered, surprised at the weakness of my voice. “Where—am I?” My throat was scratchy. I coughed to clear my throat and it was like razor blades were sliding down my neck. “God, where am I?”

“Shh. You’re all right. Mr. Rosen, you’re in the Emergency Room. I’m Gemma, your nurse.”

“Talia? She continued talking but it was getting harder to focus. Could she hear me? My eyes felt so heavy. My body went warm and limp.

The lights dimmed and I succumbed to the heaviness that was tugging on me.

When I woke up again, I had no idea what time it was or where I was. But things started to make more sense. Bits and pieces of my memory came back to me and I remembered the plane had gone down. Fuck. We hadn’t even made it to the ocean, instead crashing to the sand below the bluff where the Rosen Air Museum stood. There was broken glass. A fire. Everything had been smoky and hard to see. Then, lights and sirens.

The most painful memory of all came forth slowly, as though somewhere inside my subconscious, my mind was protecting me from the most horrific piece of all.

Talia’s head lolled to the side. Blood covering her face from the spray of glass that must have cut her to pieces.

“Talia.” I croaked.

It was no longer a question.

I knew she wasn’t there with me.

She was gone.

And it was my fault.

A familiar face cut into my line of sight, but I couldn’t make the connection as to why she looked familiar. “Aaron?” The sound of her voice triggered my most recent memory. Gina? Jenna? Something like that. She was my doctor? No, nurse. “Mr. Rosen? Can you hear me?” I nodded and pressed my eyes closed against the light of her small flashlight. “I’m Gemma, your nurse. I need you to open your eyes.”

I did as she asked and my eyes watered as I followed her instructions to follow the light with my eyes. She was likely checking me for a concussion. I’d played enough sports in high school to recognize the test.

“Looks good. Your vitals are strong.” She pocketed the flashlight and I struggled to sit up, all of a sudden finding it odd to be flat while she hovered over me.

Not that I wasn’t used to gorgeous women being on top…

I chastised myself for the fleeting thought. This was serious. It took all my energy, but I channeled my rampant thoughts back into a singular question, “Talia?”

The cringe around the corners of Gemma’s eyes answered the deep, dark fear that had taken root in my gut. “I’m very sorry, Aaron. Your friend didn’t survive the crash.”

I was surprised by the tear that slid down the side of my face. I hadn’t cried since my dad’s death. Nothing short of that had held the power to break me.

“It was all my fault,” I whispered. I forced my eyes closed, wanting to hide.

I’d gone through the pre-flight checklist, just like normal, but my mind had been so distracted. I must have missed something. I should have taken a second pass through the procedures.

I’d made a mistake, somehow, and Talia had paid the price.

The ultimate price.

My stomach rolled. I tried to turn over as the remnants of my dinner started to come up, but at the slight motion, my side flared with agonizing pain as though it were being torn in two.

“Whoa, whoa,” Gemma pinned my shoulders back against the bed. “Turn your head.”

I did as she said just in time for my stomach contents to spray over the side of the bed.

Gemma continued to instruct me with her calm, soothing tone, and when I was done, she cleaned away the mess I’d made without so much as a cringe.