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Tainted Kiss (Tainted Knights 1)

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I wanted to argue. I wanted to push my way back there so I could see her for myself, so I could hold her and tell her she was my everything. I did neither, but I wasn’t leaving. If her condition changed, or she decided she wanted to see me after all, I wanted to be right there for her.

“Is there a waiting room? I don’t want to leave her, and if you won’t let me back there, then I need somewhere to camp out.”

Kin’s expression changed, losing some of that guardedness. Respect filled her eyes and she offered me a smile. “There’s hope for you yet, Conway.”

TWENTY

Santana

Two days passed before I felt even remotely human again. Two freaking days before reality came back to bite me in the ass.

This food poisoning epidemic had been bad. Not just for me, but for everyone involved. So many had gotten ill from it, and sadly, one had died from the complications to their already weakened body. The groom’s great uncle had passed away the day before, and the entire hospital had felt the rage of the family.

The catering company who had worked the wedding would be filing for bankruptcy. Their reputation was completely ruined now, and I kind of felt bad for them. The type of poisoning we had all gotten wasn’t avoidable with food prep or storage, so it wasn’t like the cooks had been negligent. It was the fish itself, some kind of reef fish that had come into contact with the toxin.

Not that the bride’s parents cared. Their daughter’s wedding had been so beautiful, and they had spent a fortune on it. Now that beauty was forgotten. It was hard to see the good in anything when everyone they loved was still feeling the effects, not to mention mourning the loss of a family member.

My stomach was sore from all the cramps, not to mention empty from all the vomit fun I’d had. I felt so weak I barely had the energy to open my eyes. There was an IV in the back of my left hand with a bag of medication of some sort along with a bag of fluids attached to it. There were oxygen tubes in my nose, and under my hospital gown, I could feel the attachments from the heart monitor that was steadily beeping in the background.

The ICU staff had let Jenna, Angie, and Kin stay with me for over twenty-four hours before I was well enough to not freak out every time I thought I was going to be left alone. I was embarrassed by how I’d reacted now. At the time, though, I couldn’t handle being alone. I had been vulnerable, and it had felt like I was going to be abandoned all over again.

My friends had proven how much they cared about me. They had stayed beside me, not getting much rest themselves as they watched over me and took care of me. Kin had canceled all my shoots for the week, while Angie and Jenna had taken turns wiping a cool cloth over my face when the fever got to be too much. It had been nice being the one taken care of for once. Sage never would have done something like that for me.

With the return of reality, came the memory of what had happened before I had gotten so sick. Flashbacks of seeing Kale’s picture on the cover of that tabloid, of having it shoved down my throat that he was definitely having the time of his life without me. The pain of seeing two girls all over him, kissing and touching him as I once had was worse than the stomach cramps that had tortured me.

I vaguely remembered Kin telling me that Kale was there, of screaming and crying and begging her not to let him into the ICU ward. I hadn’t wanted him to see me soaked in sweat and smelling worse than death because I hadn’t been in control of my own bodily functions. Now that I was a little more clearheaded, I couldn’t understand why Kale would be back, anyway. Did he feel sorry for me? Was the guilt eating him up, and he wanted to make amends?

Fuck, I didn’t know, and honestly, I was too much of a chicken to find out.

I was doing better today than I had the day before, and a hell of a lot better than I was on Monday. The doctor had promised me I could be moved to a normal room out of ICU. And he had come through. Now I was in a private room on the sixth floor. The nurse had told me I was getting the royal treatment compared to the other sick wedding guests. I had a private room on a floor well away from everyone else, whereas the majority of the others were on another floor and were basically crammed into any room they could fit them.

I didn’t know why I was getting different treatment from everyone else, but I wasn’t going to complain about it. I wouldn’t have traded the peace and quiet I was getting to the chaos I could only imagine was taking place with all those other patients. I had been mostly sleeping, and I doubted I would have gotten much of that with the others around.

Jenna and Angie came in to check on me that morning, but the nurse kicked them out before lunch so she could help me shower. I didn’t want them to go, yet I was dying to feel clean again, so I didn’t argue. Now I was back in a freshly changed bed with the pajamas Jenna had brought from my room. I didn’t have to wear the oxygen tube, which h

ad been annoying and had made my nose sore, but I still had the IV in.

“Feel up to eating?” the nurse asked as she and the nursing assistant finished tidying up the room.

I had to stop myself from gagging at just the thought of food. It was going to be a while before I could handle food again, and I sure as hell was never touching a piece of fish or other seafood ever again.

“Please, no.”

They both gave me a sympathetic smile. “How about something to drink, then?”

“Sure, I guess.” I leaned back against my pillows, when my attention was caught by the huge bouquet of flowers that were sitting by the window.

They were a mixture of yellow, pink, blue, and purple roses. The colors brightened the room, and I actually smiled when I saw them.

“When did those get here?”

The nurse’s assistant crossed the room to the flowers and pulled off the card that I hadn’t noticed before. “Just a little bit ago,” she told me as she handed over the card. “And that boy who brought them …” She sighed and fanned herself. “My goodness, girl. You sure are lucky.”

In the process of opening the card, I stiffened at the mention of “that boy,” and hesitated. I was pretty sure I knew who the flowers were from now, and my pleasure in them dimmed as the hurt I’d been trying to ignore stabbed into my chest yet again.

I hated that he had so much power over my heart, that I had given him that power so easily.

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to finish opening the card. Turning it over, my next inhale was a little rough.



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