Stealing Emma

Chapter 21 - After the Dust Settles

Emma woke up to an astounding headache. It hurt so much, she could barely open her eyes. Even worse, her body felt like it had been run over by a truck. Her stomach immediately growled and a pang of hunger shot through her, making her nauseous. She tried to swallow, her mouth and throat feeling completely dry.

A hand grabbed her arm and she jumped at the contact. Suddenly the images started pouring through and she whimpered, wanting to forget them and believe they were all just part of a really bad nightmare. The reality was it had happened and it made her want to cry all over again.

"Shh, Emma. You're safe. You're completely safe," a soft voice said.

Max. Her savior and guardian angel. She really hoped she hadn't dreamt that last part because it would wreck her if it wasn't true. She rubbed her eyes, feeling pressure against her cheekbone, and almost sobbed when she found his beautiful face staring back at her. His deep eyes seemed endless and they were filled with worry and dark circles underneath.

"Hey sleepy," he said, pushing her hair back. "I was starting to wonder if I should wake you up."

How long had she been out? The way her head was pounding, she wouldn't be surprised if it had been days.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart? I got you some food. You should eat," he said trying to sound optimistic.

She nodded at him and he helped her sit up, her eyes taking in the familiar room. Despite him being extremely gentle, every bone in her body seemed to protest, especially her ribs.

"Here," he said handing her a water bottle, the top already unscrewed.

She reached for it with shaky hands and almost dropped it, barely having the energy to hold it up. Thankfully, Max kept a hand on the bottle, tipping it over for her while she drank it slowly.

"Good girl," he said once she drank half the bottle. "I hope you like chicken noodle soup," he added, opening up a lid from a white container. He grabbed a spoon, dipping it inside and brought it to her mouth.

She looked at him skeptically. "I can do that," she said hoarsely.

"Humor me," he simply said, waving the spoon in front of her.

She opened her mouth and almost moaned as the warm liquid coated her throat. Chicken noodle soup had never tasted so good. He continued spoon feeding her until she eagerly finished the whole thing.

"Saltines?" he asked, grabbing a packet.

She nodded and he handed them over after tearing open the packet. She quickly finished those too, and he handed her another. Somehow the munching seemed to alleviate a portion of her splitting headache.

"When was the last time you ate, Em?" he asked fully concerned.

"I don't know. What day is it?" she asked. It was slightly light outside, but it seemed to be the afternoon sun.

"It's Monday, about 5pm. You slept a solid eight hours."

"Oh. I can't really remember the last time. The plane, I think," she said answering his question truthfully.

He cursed loudly. "Emma. That was almost two days ago. You can't do that, baby. You need to eat."

"I know. I just wasn't hungry and then I couldn't eat after we...fought."

He swallowed hard and shook his head. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I never should have said those things to you...let you go back there. I'll never forgive myself."

"No. Stop, Max. I won't let you blame yourself for this."

He reached for her face, his thumb tracing her swollen cheek. "How can I not?" he whispered.