She shivered. It might have been wiser to wait for Michael, but he was on his way here, anyway. She could feel him getting closer.
She quickly locked the car, then fell in behind a family of four, following them through the parking lot and into the hospital foyer. A nurse directed her to the eighth floor. Mary waited near the elevators. "He sent me,” she explained. “Come on. He won't rest until he sees you."
"Do you know why?” Nikki asked, following the older woman up the corridor. Mary shook her head. “No. All he tells me is that it's urgent.” She shrugged and stopped near a door.
“In you go. I'll wait here."
Nikki gave her a forced smile and stepped into the small, bright room. Jake's broad body was almost lost amongst the machines and tubes surrounding him. She stepped closer, smiling when he opened his eyes.
"Nikki.” His voice was harsh and forced through thin, pale lips.
"You're looking good, Jake.” She didn't care about his ghostlike color, the tubes, or the huge bandage around his neck. He was alive. That was all that mattered, all she cared about.
"Liar.” His gaze pinned her, shrewd despite the pain haunting his pale features. “How are you?" She shrugged. “I'll live."
He reached out and took her hand. His grip was weak, yet oddly reassuring.
"I'm not going to die on you, Nik. I'm far too stubborn to let the likes of Jasper win so easily." Tear stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. Jake didn't need her tears—it would only make him worry. “I'm glad."
He squeezed her hand. “I just needed you to know. I don't want...” he hesitated, looking uncomfortable.
“Nik, not everyone in your life has to die. Don't be afraid to live because you're so afraid of death. Don't let fear close your heart."
His words cut through her. She stared at him, wondering how he'd known, how he'd guessed.
"I'm no fool, Nikki. I've watched you grow from an untamed urchin to a warm but distant woman. Let someone break the ice, kid. If not Michael, then someone else. You can't go on as you are." Why not? Why was everyone so intent on changing her life when she was happy?
But am I really? She remembered the long nights of loneliness and wasn't so sure. Awareness raced like fire across her skin. She knew without looking that Michael had stepped into the room. Still holding Jake's hand, she turned and watched him walk to the opposite side of the bed. She wondered if it were a deliberate choice. His gaze, when it met hers, was dark, emotionless, and there was a similar stillness in the link. He was keeping his distance as she asked. So why did she feel so uneasy?