Murder_ A Sinful Secrets Romance - Ella James Page 0,218

with blue-gray fog, and I wonder what I’ll do if he doesn’t remember me. Doesn’t remember us. How will I cope with that?

How is this even happening right now? After everything…

I shut my eyes and think of myself up there on stage last night at the Bluebird. How good it felt. And how I thought of Barrett the whole time because I knew how proud he’d be of me.

Once his friends told me how he felt, and I saw that pig tattoo, everything shifted back to normal in my head. Even if it had been me he hit… It would have been weird, yeah. Of course. A sensitive subject. But I think we’d have learned to joke about it. I think we could have gotten through it.

What kind of universe—what kind of God—takes that kind of love and just…erases it?

Tears fill my eyes. I need to get up. Walk around a little. Breathe, before I go into hysterics and the woman at the waiting room security desk makes me leave.

She’s talking on her phone as I elbow through a one of the double-doors, bound for the cafeteria. I give her a tight smile.

“Ma’am?”

I look over my shoulder.

“Gwenna, right?”

I nod.

“They need you down the hall.”

My stomach flips. “Which hall?”

She laughs. “The other way.” She waves across the room, toward the other double-doors. “The one with all the patients.”

I push through that set of doors with clammy hands. Is something wrong? I’m met mid-hallway by Nancy, one of the nicer nurses. When I see her face, my head goes airy.

“Gwenna.” She looks troubled. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not exactly sure.”

I grab out for the wall, leaning against it as her dark brows draw together. “Barrett is awake, which is phenomenal, but he’s…”

“What?” I snap.

“He’s very upset. We can’t seem to get him calmed down. The charge nurse, Sue, is in there now and has paged the on-call, but…I think it’s psychological rather than physical. Honestly? I think he’s having some kind of flashback.”

I suck a deep breath in and start off toward his room. “I’ll know what it is.”

Nancy trots along beside me. “He has said your name a few times.”

I burst through the door to find the room still dark. Barrett’s on his side, curled up and shaking with soft, muffled sobs.

“Barrett?” I reach his bed, then freeze. My head is spinning so hard, I almost feel dizzy. I reach out for him, my hand touching his arm. “Bear? It’s Gwenna.”

I can’t breathe as I lean there against his mattress. So surreal…

I see his shoulders shake a little, and the shock of seeing him in motion wakes me back up.

“Beary… Hey, it’s Gwen.” I squeeze his shoulder. “You all right?”

With a knot in my throat, I look behind me at the nurses, and then climb carefully up on the bed.

“I do this at home,” I murmur to them as I move in close and wrap an arm around him. He’s so thin. He’s shaking. God, my Barrett. It’s so weird to feel his body moving…

My clumsy hands sift through the sheets, feeling the smoothness of his shoulder, then his neck, his face… His throat still sports a small bandage. I stroke alongside that, the way I always used to when I’d try to wake him up.

“Bear? It’s Gwennie.” My voice cracks on my name. What if he doesn’t know it? I inhale as his head comes to rest against my shoulder. “Bear.” Tears fill my eyes. I cup his warm neck. “We’re okay…”

I can feel his face against my shoulder, feel his body pause…

His forehead tips back, eyes rising to mine. “Pig?”

A little sob slips out, mixed with a crazed laugh. “Yes.”

Bear’s arms come around me, pulling me to him. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt.

Epilogue

BARRETT

May 28, 2016

It’s hot today, but I don’t care. Gwenna likes to hold my hand, and I like holding hers. We’ve taken Brian to the enclosure, into Piglet’s house, and now we’re walking to the open-roofed gazebo behind mine. I squeeze Gwen’s hand as Brian climbs the step and takes a seat on the wooden bench that wraps around the inside of the octagon.

Pig and I sit down across from him. Brian takes out his tiny, black recorder, and Gwenna draws my arm into her lap. Her free hand starts to stroke the inside of my forearm.

I can’t bring myself to be bothered by the PDA. Three weekends ago, we sat in Gwenna’s living room while Brian heard her side of our story.