Clay's Hope

Nineteen

Hours passed. Worry ate at me. Twice I heard Sam moving in the living room, but he didn't disturb us. I lingered in the dark, listening for any sign that Gabby was improving.

When she finally moved slightly, my throat tightened with emotion. She tried to speak, but she could only make a dry, raspy noise. I gently slid an arm under her and lifted her enough to give her a drink. She sipped slowly, each swallow sounding loud and painful, until she tilted her head to show she'd had enough.

She'd barely drunk anything. Before I could encourage more, I saw she'd left again. Was it sleep or had she fainted?

The worry returned. Why had she touched Luke? I'd kill the Brit next time I saw him.

It was several hours again before she woke to sip more water. Again, she barely managed anything. The wait until the next time she moved wasn't as long, and I began to hope. Was it a sign of improvement?

For two days, we existed in darkness. I only left the bedroom once to get more water. Charlene came once more to ask if I thought Gabby needed to go to the hospital. I wasn't sure. Could Gabby survive on so little water? Charlene had left before I'd decided on an answer.

I was about to leave and call Charlene back when Gabby shifted again.

"Water," she whispered.

Sliding an arm under her, I lifted the glass to her lips. She didn't sip. She gulped. My eyes watered. I lowered her back to the bed, set the cup aside, and waited, listening to her breathing. It sounded stronger. Would she stay awake this time?

"How long have I been sleeping?" she asked.

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her close. Relief coursed through me.

"I really hope you're Clay," she said.

A laugh escaped me. As if I'd let anyone else near her.

"Can we turn on a light?"

As soon as I left the bed, she tried sitting up. I watched her struggle in the dark. Every move looked strained. Turning on the light probably wasn't a good idea. She needed more rest. But I wanted to see her. Really see her. I waited to click the lamp on until she leaned against the headboard. She squinted, and her eyes watered. She reached up to rub her eyes and brush a tangle of hair from her sallow face.

After blinking for a minute, her gaze met mine.

"Clay, I think I know what's going on. Can you help me up? I need a shower."

She wanted me to help her move around again? Not happening. I shook my head.

"Clay, now's not the time to put your foot down. This is really important."

It was exactly the time to put my foot down. She'd been out for two damn days. I felt aged from how much I'd worried over her.

She tried to sit up further but couldn't. She winced as if her head hurt.

"Okay. Maybe you're right." She rubbed her forehead. "Can you get me something for my head, please? It feels like it's going to explode all over the walls."

A request I could easily fulfill. I leaned over, smoothed back her hair, and kissed her forehead. She smiled tiredly at me. It was hard to leave the room, even for medicine for her. But, I did.

The living room was empty. I let myself out of the apartment and closed the door softly behind me. I'd need to be quick. I didn't want anyone to see I'd left Gabby's side. They'd know she was awake, and I wasn't about to let anyone near her just yet. She needed rest. A lot of it.