Dane's Storm

I ripped at the needle sticking out of my hand, slapping tubes away, moving the blankets back so I could get out of bed. Nothing would stop me. I’d damn well get to Audra myself.

The room spun, turning sideways, as I fell back on the pillow, pushing off it again in an effort to get up. My grandmother held my shoulders to keep me steady. “Dane, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

I pushed at her. “Goddamn it, get off me. This is your fucking fault.”

She stepped back immediately, her face stricken. I shouldn’t feel bad. This was her fault. She’d started everything that led us to this hospital. “Help me up or get out,” I grunted, pulling myself to a sitting position and waiting as the head rush cleared. My body ached everywhere, especially my leg, which felt extra thick with some sort of bandage wrapped around it.

Luella nodded, her eyes filled with something that looked like remorse. I couldn’t be sure, as I’d never seen that particular expression— Fuck if I cared anyway. Audra! “I’ll call the nurse so she can help you into a wheelchair.” She leaned over and pressed a button.

“I don’t need a damn wheelchair,” I said breathlessly, moving my legs off the side of the bed as the room tilted again.

“Please, Dane. I won’t keep you from her, but please don’t hurt yourself more than you already are. I think Audra would tell you the same thing.”

“As if you would fucking know what Audra would or wouldn’t say,” I bit out. When her face blanched, I took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Fuck,” I muttered, just as a nurse came in the room.

“Gail, will you get my grandson a wheelchair so he can go see Audra?”

Gail gave me a small smile and a nod. “It’s nice to see you awake, Dane. We’ve all been waiting.”

Once I was situated in a wheelchair, Gail wheeled me the short distance to Audra’s room. Outside her door, Gail began to push it open when I turned, putting my hand on hers and halting her. I cleared my throat. “Is she . . . I mean, her legs . . .”

But Gail smiled kindly, placing her hand on my shoulder and leaning forward. “The trauma of her fall, combined with several broken bones and nerve injury caused the leg paralysis. She’s showing signs that it was temporary and the nerve function tests are positive.”

Thank God. Thank God. I shuddered with deep relief, nodding at Gail, choking out, “Thank you.”

She nodded again, smiling. “You saved her life.”

No, she’d saved mine, I thought. Gail pushed the door open and wheeled me inside.

Audra’s room was dim and quiet, the steady

beat of her heart reassuring mine that she was alive. She was alive. Oh, thank God. Thank God.

I wheeled closer. Both legs were in casts, the right one only going as high as her knee, and her arm was wrapped in thick bandages. Her face was gaunt but perfect, her dark lashes fanned over her cheeks, and her lips opened slightly in sleep. As I stared at her in thankful wonder, I heard the door behind me open and close. Glancing back to find the room empty, I stood shakily from the chair, walking the two steps to Audra’s bed and sitting next to her, taking her hand in mine, unable to bear not touching her for another second.

I felt a hot tear run down my cheek, but I felt like laughing and shouting with happiness, the reality of the situation hitting me full force.

We’d made it. Survived. I had no clue how, but we emerged from that dark forest, not unscathed, but whole. Together.

I laughed, a strangled sound, bending over and putting my face next to hers, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, and the top of her head as I muttered unintelligible words of love and gratitude.

I felt her move under me, so I leaned back as her large, dark eyes blinked up at me. “Dane?” she whisper-croaked.

I nodded. “Yeah, honey. I’m here.” I smoothed my hand over her hair, down her cheek. “I’m here.”

“Dane,” she said again, her voice breaking, her eyes moving over my features, as if accounting for every detail of my face. Assessing whether I was okay, or perhaps whether I was real. Her fingers followed her eyes, touching my cheekbones, my nose, running over my lips as I smiled and kissed her fingertips. “You shaved,” she choked out.

I laughed, taking her hand in my own and kissing her fingers again. “Someone else did. It must’ve taken hours.”

She laughed too, a small sound filled with wonder, with joy, with heartache.

I pulled away for a second, lifting her very, very gently and scooting her over so I could climb in bed beside her, turning on my good side. She turned her head toward me and for a brief moment it was as if we were back in our intimate shelter on the mountain. Only this time, we were safe, we were warm, and there was easily accessible and nutritious food. “You owe me a burrito,” I murmured and Audra laughed again, pressing her lips to mine, so I could drink down her happiness.

She nodded, still smiling. “The biggest burrito you’ve ever eaten.” She paused. “Have you eaten?”

“I must have. I don’t feel hungry.” I was sure they’d been pumping me full of glucose or whatever all the tubes attached to my body were for. All I knew was that the burning ache of hunger was gone.

I adjusted my arm, wincing slightly as the bandages shifted—the ones I’d investigated as Gail wheeled me down the hall. They started at each side of my neck and went under each arm and around the back of my shoulders. Audra frowned, pushing back the collar of my hospital gown and peered inside at the bandages, her face still confused for a moment.