She studied him. Anger she could cope with. Frustration and bitterness she could understand. But this?
“About what?"
"You and me, Nikki. What else are we talking about?” His voice was lifeless, his thoughts a vast desert. She met his gaze, uncertain what he wanted from her. He'd stated his intention of leaving so very clearly, and so often, she had no doubt that he would. And yet he obviously needed—or wanted—something from her. “There is no you and me. You said that yourself." He simply stared at her. She shuffled her feet like some errant child and finally looked away. Because, deep down, she knew. He wanted her to confront what she felt, and that was the one course she could not take. Because she was a coward, and because her love had always signaled death. Vampire or not, he could die.
Better to live a lifetime alone than face the weight of one more death on her conscience. Only now, it wasn't just one lifetime she had to face, was it?
"I don't know what else you want me to say, Michael."
"And therein lies our problem.” He pushed away from the wall. “Perhaps the fault is mine. Perhaps I simply expect too much."
She stared at him. Did he want a lie? How could she admit to loving him when she wasn't sure?
And what good would it do, when he intended to leave anyway?
She blinked back sudden tears. Once she had told such a lie. It had led her and Tommy down a path to destruction. His life had slipped as quickly through her fingers as his blood, and she'd vowed never, ever to again admit to feelings she wasn't sure about.
"I'm not Tommy, Nikki. I'm not your damn parents or anyone else. I'm me. And I just want you to admit the truth, if only to yourself."
I can't. Don't you understand that? I can't!
"Then I truly must go."
She was losing him. Fear squeezed her heart tight, almost suffocating her. Afraid to love him, yet afraid to lose him. What a laugh.
"Perhaps this time is wrong for us,” he said, dark eyes gentle. “Perhaps this was a fire always destined to flare brightly and die."
No, she wanted to say, no. But she held the words in check. He has to leave. He can't stay. The statement ran through her mind, over and over, as he turned and walked to the door.
"Don't,” she whispered, as he reached out to grab the door handle. He glanced back at her. “Jasper won't come near you again. I vowed that, and I meant it." She wasn't afraid of Jasper right now. She was afraid that Michael would walk out the door and she'd never see him again.
Wasn't that what she wanted?
"Bye, Nikki.” He turned and left. The door slammed shut behind him, rattling the display case in the living room. A crystal vase rocked and fell to the floor.
The sound of it smashing was the sound of her heart.
>She shivered. It might have been wiser to wait for Michael, but he was on his way here, anyway. She could feel him getting closer.
She quickly locked the car, then fell in behind a family of four, following them through the parking lot and into the hospital foyer. A nurse directed her to the eighth floor. Mary waited near the elevators. "He sent me,” she explained. “Come on. He won't rest until he sees you."
"Do you know why?” Nikki asked, following the older woman up the corridor. Mary shook her head. “No. All he tells me is that it's urgent.” She shrugged and stopped near a door.
“In you go. I'll wait here."
Nikki gave her a forced smile and stepped into the small, bright room. Jake's broad body was almost lost amongst the machines and tubes surrounding him. She stepped closer, smiling when he opened his eyes.
"Nikki.” His voice was harsh and forced through thin, pale lips.
"You're looking good, Jake.” She didn't care about his ghostlike color, the tubes, or the huge bandage around his neck. He was alive. That was all that mattered, all she cared about.
"Liar.” His gaze pinned her, shrewd despite the pain haunting his pale features. “How are you?" She shrugged. “I'll live."
He reached out and took her hand. His grip was weak, yet oddly reassuring.
"I'm not going to die on you, Nik. I'm far too stubborn to let the likes of Jasper win so easily." Tear stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. Jake didn't need her tears—it would only make him worry. “I'm glad."
He squeezed her hand. “I just needed you to know. I don't want...” he hesitated, looking uncomfortable.