Fifth a Fury (Goddess Isles 5)

Had she said goodbye to me? Had she accepted that I’d never wake and now had to figure out how to accept I was alive?

She shook her head, a moan slipping through her gagging fingers.

“He…llo.” I grimaced, wishing I could sit up and grab her. That I could delete the distance between us and sink inside her to remind her, in every certain way, that I was alive. That I had the endurance to make love to her, to kiss her, to laugh with her.

Instead, I was locked in a different type of prison. This one I’d been given my life back, but I still couldn’t operate within it. I was still a voyeur, forced to lay prone on my back and wait for her to come to me.

“Elea…nor.” I swallowed twice. A third time. I tried again. “It’s o…kay, Eleanor.”

She shattered.

Crumpling into a little ball, she hugged herself as a wracking sob rocked her body.

She successfully ripped out my traitorous heart that’d started this mess and made me swallow down my own tears. I wanted so fucking much to touch her. To hold her.

“Come…here. Please, please…come here.” I arched my chin, triumphant at that small achievement all while cursing the rest of my unresponsive form.

Pika continued his loud celebration, and Skittles flew to her soul-mate, cooing in Eleanor’s ear, pecking at her hair so she could press into the crook of her shoulder and neck in sympathy.

Eleanor reached for the little parrot, and with her fingers on Skittles’s feathers, she looked up again. “Is this really happening? I’m not dreaming? I just dreamed you married me. We promised each other until death do us part, and then…you died. Two seconds after our vows, Sully. You—” She pinched herself, making Skittles squeak at the fast movement. She pinched hard enough to leave crescent marks of her nails in her forearm.

“You’re not…dreaming.” I coughed.

My muscles gathered enough energy to cough.

I grinned, not caring if it was sloppy or resembled a grimace instead of gratefulness. Every moment I stayed awake, my body slipped back under my command.

Just like she would.

Just like I was at her command. I would do whatever she asked and be whoever she wanted if only she would fucking come close.

“Jinx…”

One second, she was on her knees, and the next, she launched at me. Her cheek pressed against my heart. Her arms lashed around my chest. Her body on top of my body in a full-welcome, relief-filled hug. “Sully. Oh, my God.” Her lips danced over my cheeks, my eyes, my forehead, my chin.

Kiss after kiss.

Fast and furious, I couldn’t keep track of sensation, and the kisses all blended into one. I gasped as my nervous system struggled, threatening to short-circuit and send me under again.

“Eleanor…stop.”

“Shit.” Immediately, she slipped off me, resting on her knees, her chest rising and falling. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Did I hurt you? I’ll go get the doctors.” She went to slip off the bed. “Damn! I sent them away for the night. The one night I send them away, and you wake up.” Her panic bled through her swift syntax. “I’ll run. I won’t be long. I’ll get help, and they can give you whatever you need.” She stood, raking her hands through her hair, one of my charcoal business shirts buttoned and hanging loose on her stunning frame. “You’ll need food and painkillers and—” She looked back at me, her hair once again flying every which way in her hurry. “Are you hurting? What do you need? Tell me and I’ll—”

“Eleanor…quiet.”

I winced at the crashing consonants in my head. Too much, too soon. Her panic bled into me, reminding me that I was in pain. That every little achievement in speech and motion cost me dearly, but she was so full of life, so fierce, so tenacious that I fed off her.

I stole more of her energy because her will for me to survive was contagious.

“Just…sit with me.” I swallowed again, wishing I could pat the bed so she’d join me, begging to stand and grab her in a hug. How long before I could do that? How many more weeks would I be bedridden and useless? “Please?”

Instantly, she sat on the edge of the mattress in the space between my waistline and hip. She dodged the tubes going into me and gawked at the heart monitor registering my beats in all their awakening mayhem.

Pika and Skittles instantly took perch on her shoulders, one on each, adorning her in green jewels.

“I can’t believe this.” She pressed her fingertips to the monitor’s screen. “So many times I’ve listened and watched this awful machine. I hated it. But now…now I love it because it shows the truth. You’re back.” Taking my hand in hers, careful not to jostle the IV line, she sniffed back her fresh tears. “I have so much to say, Sully. So much to ask. Where did you go? Could you hear me? What brought you back, do you know? You don’t need to worry about Drake, he’s gone. And the police have been dealt with and—”