Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,109
He couldn’t push himself up. And that wound that had burned so badly before? It was cold. Ice cold. Numbing him. He tried to roll over because he needed Victoria. Needed to see her and touch her . . .
“Lie still.” Victoria was above him and he was flat on his back now. No, no, she was crouched next to him, not over him. When had she moved? When had she come so close? He tried to lift his hand because he wanted to touch her.
But he was too weak.
Then her hands were touching him. Pressing down hard on him. “I’m not letting you go,” Victoria told him.
She was bleeding. She was hurt.
She was—crying?
“I’m not letting you go,” Victoria said again. “You stay with me, understand?”
He nodded, his head sliding against the cement. He wasn’t going anywhere. Didn’t she get that? He was in it for the long haul with Victoria. When he pictured the rest of his life, she was right by his side. Time would slip past, and they’d be together.
Maybe they’d move to the ’burbs. Get a house with lots of room, in case she wanted to have kids. A kid with her red hair would be a beautiful little princess.
Or if she just wanted to stay right there in the city, they could do that. They could make anything work.
“Wade! Don’t you do this!”
He wasn’t doing anything. Just staring up at her. Loving her. His Victoria. Did she even realize how perfect she was to him?
“Wade, please . . .”
“Love . . . you . . .”
“No! Do not pull some ‘I love you’ line that is going to be the last thing you say to me, do you understand? You do not do that. You keep fighting. I’ve got the artery, and I’m not letting go.”
He didn’t understand.
“We’ll get blood for you. The doctors will patch you up. Just stay with me. Wade, you understand? You stay!” Her breath heaved out. Victoria was crying. No, he didn’t want her to cry. He wanted her to laugh and smile and to be happy . . . forever.
“You stay—” Victoria seemed to choke out the words. “You—”
He couldn’t see her any longer. His eyes had sagged closed.
“You stay!” Victoria screamed. “Please.” A desperate whisper. “Please stay with me . . .”
And he tried to nod once more. There was no way he’d leave her. They’d found each other, and he didn’t intend to let go.
So death could just screw off.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
VICTORIA!” WADE’S EYES flew open and he glanced frantically around.
White stared back at him—white walls, white ceiling, white floor and—
“I’m right here.”
His head jerked to the right. Victoria sat in the chair next to . . . to his bed? Yeah, yeah, he was in a hospital bed. Tubes ran to his body. Machines beeped. And Victoria held his hand.
She smiled at him. Dark shadows slid under her eyes. “I see what you meant about hospitals.”
He had no clue what she was talking about. “What . . . happened?” His voice sounded rusty to his own ears and something was pulling low in his stomach.
“Are you back this time? Not just doing some drunk drug talk to me?”
A furrow pulled down his brows. “I get that . . . I’m in a hospital.” He tried to remember what the hell had happened. He’d gone to Wild Jokers, looking for her. She hadn’t been there. She’d been out back, with that guy Flynn—
The machines went wild.
“Bastard,” Wade snarled.
Victoria squeezed his fingers. “Easy. Don’t want that blood pressure sky-rocketing.” Then she paused and muttered, “Or bottoming out, the way it did before.”
“Victoria.”
She smiled at him. “You are back. Good. Because you kept drifting in and out, and most of the time you weren’t making any sense to me.”
With his free hand, he lifted the sheets. He saw that he was wearing a loose pair of pajamas and that a big white bandage covered half of his stomach.
“The pajamas were my idea,” she said quickly. “I just . . . a regular gown wouldn’t cut it because of where your wound was positioned. I wanted you to be comfortable, and I didn’t want the nurses seeing your—um, seeing you every time they came in, so it seemed like a good idea to go with the pj’s.”
He lowered the sheet. “The bastard twisted the knife.” Flynn had been trying to go for maximum damage. He’d been trying to kill me.
She nodded.
And he saw— “Baby, your neck.”
Her hand rose and pressed to