Avenging Us - Gina Whitney Page 0,40

thought of being apart from him caused the darkness to draw tighter around me. Her eyes glistened with malice, and mesmerized me to where I couldn’t look away. She closed her eyes and I closed mine. The pain too great. In the darkness once again, guided only by her words, all concept of time stopped. Unable to slow down or stop. I continued moving toward the transient light. I opened my eyes, gazing at my daughter’s silhouette with tears streaming down my face.

“I’m sorry my angel.” The concrete weight of my words pulled a single crystalline tear from her own soulful eyes. And without hesitation, I leaned forward, fading into the light and from sight.

I woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping steadily, and the sterile antiseptic scent of the hospital. My body felt heavy and frozen in both time and place. My ears searched for the lovely sound of the fetal monitor. Nothing. Panic started to set in, and someone began calling my name urgently. Who? There was no name attached, but the tone had a familiar authority to it. My body yearned to respond. However, the weight of my lids prevented that. Alarms sounded, and hushed tones turned into frenzied words as they poked. Pain… I felt pain. Bright white heat licked across my stomach, and then there was a warm burning sensation. Darkness was coming for me again. It didn’t matter, but this time I knew I was safe.

A voice broke through, and the memory evaporated faster than the time that was steadily ticking by. Abel. My eyes remained firmly closed. In the back of my mind, remnants of memories swirled and lingered. A baby girl with blue tear-filled eyes. The breath raced to my lungs, faster with each passing moment, and in one final burst, several pictures ambushed me at once. Impossible. Green, brooding eyes shadowed with worry on the fringe of my world, but solid—and mine. Always there…always there. His words echoed in the stillness that, for a moment, seemed to fill my soul. His lashes brushed against my cheeks before my eyes fluttered open, and I stared up at him. My heart leapt, and a warm, stinging liquid came from nowhere and filled my eyes. His eyes went wide, his lips parted, and there was a mixture of clear relief and a half-dozen other emotions mirrored plainly on his expression. He reached down, kissing my lips, and I could feel the familiar maleness of him. His hands fumbling. He kissed each of my eyes, my cheeks, and then the hallow of my throat.

Worn, unshaven, and undeniably handsome. He whispered, “Jesus, Beauty, you scared the fuck out of me.” He rested his head on my chest, and I fingered his messy hair softly, swallowing past the aching lump that strained against my throat, because right now, he needed me…she needed me.

“Sorry.” My voice broke, the pain in his eyes still present. “I don’t remember anything that happened.” I shook my head. The panic began to slowly rise. “Where is she? Is she okay? That’s all I care about…” My heart shuttered. I pushed through the pain and events that led me to this bed, and focused on what really mattered. My baby girl…and the man in front of me.

A wide, proud smile slowly pulled across his face. “She’s a perfect angel.”

Angel. The name bubbled up through a haze of cruel words, shapes, and darkness that edged around the corners of my mind. “What did you call her?”

“Angel, because she’s beautiful.” The love dripped out of him and the air changed around us.

Dr. Mills walked into the room and to my side. A few resident students followed closely behind. “You gave us quite a scare young lady,” he said, putting the stethoscope into his ears. “Breathe and hold.” And I did. He listened closely, his eyes closing. “Again… One breath in and hold.”

The nurse stepped around him, wearing a congenial smile. “I’m just going to untie your gown so the doctor can have a peek.” She untied the lower half and it fell open.

He gently pulled the gauze off my incision and handed it to the nurse. “This needs to be changed a few times a day. Any additional redness, oozing, or sharp pains, you call right away. But the discharge nurse will go over that before you leave.”

“Discharge?” Abel’s eyes narrowed into slits, and his arms crossed defensively. “Not a fucking chance in hell.”

Dr. Mills quickly amended. “No. No. No. She’ll be