much. He swallows and looks away, clearing his throat. I can’t get emotional right now. I can’t break down, but seeing Will like this nearly undoes me.
“You can do this, Eve. You are the strongest person I know.” His mouth lifts in a half smile. “Other than me.” I smile for the first time that day. And I start to believe, maybe, just maybe, this crazy plan will work. “We need to get moving,” he says. And my smile instantly dissolves. The extra serving of meatloaf I had at dinner turns sour in my stomach, and I swallow down the saliva that’s rapidly accumulating in my mouth.
Will takes my wrist and examines it closely, tracing his fingers along the chip. I can feel my pulse thumping against his fingertips. His gaze is scientific – estimating how much room he has to work around my veins, but they are like a web surrounding the chip. I know that’s not good.
I try to focus on him instead of my wrist. His face shows complete and total concentration. He’s beautiful like this. His eyes are dark and serious, his jaw set firm, and his focus on me is unwavering.
He rips open an antiseptic wipe with his teeth, still holding my wrist. The sound of the paper tearing in the silent room makes me flinch; I’m so on edge, and though I don’t mean to, I involuntarily pull my hand away from him.
He looks at me, wondering what he’s done wrong. He spits the wrapper from his lips and leans down to kiss me. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against my lips. “Trust me,” his voice is just a whisper. I nod and kiss him again. Then he brings my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the underside of my wrist, right over my chip. “Be very still,” he whispers against my wrist before lowering it.
“Do it fast.”
He nods and picks up the scalpel. I offer him my wrist, lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. He wipes the cool antiseptic wipe along my wrist. And while I wait to feel the sting of the blade, I picture myself on the other side of the fence, running free, my backpack bouncing wildly. I hold the image in my mind and breathe, trying to calm myself.
Will’s grip tightens on my wrist, and I feel the sting of the blade break my skin, its sharp tip digging under the chip to free it. I bite into my lip to keep from crying out. I feel a warm dampness drip down my arm and hear it splatter softly on the concrete floor. I keep my eyes squeezed tight and breathe deeply through my nose. I can smell the salty, metallic blood in the tiny room so I switch to breathing through my mouth. Then his hands are fumbling with a cloth at my wrist. I look down and suddenly feel woozy as I watch deep red blood staining the white cloth. Will’s hand tightens around my wrist, applying too much pressure as he squeezes.
The whooshing sound of my pulse inside my head is deafening. I tip my head against the wall, unsure if it’s by choice or if it’s just too heavy to hold up any longer.
“Try and relax,” Will’s voice soothes, but it sounds far away.
I’m not sure when Rena came back, but she’s kneeling beside me and helps Will bandage my wrist. Will lifts my arm and holds my hand above my head, trying to slow the loss of blood. My head feels like its floating apart from my body, and my eyes can’t focus on any one thing. The room tilts and spins. The smell of iron invades the room until it’s all I can focus on.
I feel them changing the bandages again and shouting commands at each other that I can’t make out. I think they’re arguing about something, but their voices blend together in an unidentifiable jumble. Suddenly Will lifts me from the floor. My arms and legs feel heavy and limp. My head flops back without my permission, and my eyes roll between open and closed, so I see the room in sharp angles and flashes of light that don’t add up to anything. The ceiling is too close. The floor is too far. He folds me into his arms and carries me from the room.
Chapter 26
A little while later, we’re bumping around inside the Jeep. I open my eyes. Rena is driving, and it