“Chloe.” Trent dropped to his knees in front of me, his voice and expression utterly broken. “Do you have any idea how much it kills me knowing I can’t give you everything you want?”
Finally, I lifted my head and looked at him. I hated that I was hurting him like this. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t you dare apologize for any of this.” He rested his arms along either side of my legs, his hands clutching my hips, and he lowered his head to my lap. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know.” I aimlessly ran my fingers through his hair. “I’ve always dreamed of having the perfect storybook life—small house in the country, white-picket fence, two kids, maybe a dog, a husband who loves me more than anything else in the world. Don’t get me wrong. I still want all of that, but now when I think about it, I can’t imagine it with anyone but you.”
I drew in a shuddering breath. I’d never bared my soul like this before. It was freeing and terrifying all at the same time.
“I mean, does any of that other stuff really matter if it’s not with you?” I asked.
Trent lifted his head, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “What’re you saying, Chloe?”
I shrugged. “Breaking the curse means giving up some of those dreams, but it also means an eternity with you. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared,” I whispered.
“You never really had a choice before, not about this, but now you do, and it is your choice. If you want to destroy all the evidence of who you are and live out a normal, human life, I’ll help you do that. But…” He licked his lips. “If you want to become a vampire, if you want me to change you, I’ll do it.”
My breath hitched. Despite knowing the truth, he was still giving me the choice. And now I felt even worse for ever allowing myself to think he’d force me into becoming a vampire.
He once again took my hands in his and kissed my knuckles, his thumb caressing the spot his lips had just been. “I need you to be absolutely sure, though, and you’re not there yet, Chloe. I can see the indecision all over your face. So, until you’re sure, until I know you’re sure, we keep this secret between us.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN:
Deathbed
“OH, GOD.” I GROANED WITH AGONY and rolled onto my side. Knees tucked to my chest, I lay in the fetal position on the bed, excruciating pain shooting through my body. Tears pricked my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Trent’s hand was on my back.
All I could do was moan in response.
“Chloe?”
The mattress moved slightly as he shifted onto his knees, and I cried out. That small movement felt like someone had jabbed a million knives into my abdomen and then filled the stab wounds with acid.
“Chloe, honey. What’s wrong?” He reached for me.
“Don’t,” I gasped. “Don’t touch me.” I gritted the words through tightly clenched teeth.
Everything hurt, and I wanted to be left alone. Not to mention, I didn’t want him to see me like this, writhing in pain and incoherent.
“What’s wrong?” he asked for the third time.
“My stomach.”
Trent brushed sweaty hair from my forehead. “You’re burning up.”
He was off the bed in a flash, and I was grateful for the space. I blew out a slow breath, and it was like spitting razor blades. Why did I hurt so much?
Trent returned with a cool cloth and gently draped it across my forehead. “Do you want some water? Aspirin? Food?”
The mere mention of that stuff had nausea rising inside of me. I shook my head, which caused my body to shake the tiniest bit. Another debilitating wave of pain shocked me into stillness.
“I wanna sleep,” I mumbled as I closed my eyes.
If I lay perfectly still, I was okay. I prayed Trent would see what I needed and leave me alone for a little while. A nap would help—it always did when I was sick.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Just say my name, okay? I’ll listen for you,” he said.
“Mm-hmm.” I was on the verge of blissful sleep before he’d even made it out of the room.
But my comfort was short lived. Violent shivers shook my body, and I whimpered as I pulled the blankets up to my neck. But no matter how deeply I burrowed beneath the covers, I couldn’t get warm.
I swiped the cloth from my head. White spots danced behind my closed lids, and my temples throbbed with each beat of my heart. My pulse pounded in my ears. Bile rose in my throat, gagging me. I was going to throw up.
Flinging the blankets off, I cupped my hand over my mouth and rolled out of bed. Intense cramps made it impossible to stand up straight, so I bent over and took a couple of steps. The room spun. I reached for the wall to steady myself, but my hand slipped. My knees buckled, and I started to fall.
My head never hit the floor, though. Trent caught me seconds before I ended up bashing in my skull.
“Chloe.” His voice was frantic, his fear palpable.
And then, everything went dark.
“AW.” MOM WALKED INTO my room, frowning. “I hate when my baby girl gets sick.” She held a tray with a bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup and a can of ginger ale.
“Mom,” I whined. “I’m not your baby girl. I’m almost fifteen.”
She set the tray on my desk and laughed. “You will always be my baby girl, Chloe. Don’t ever forget that.”
Something cold pressed firmly against my stomach, jerking me from my dream. I tensed, and my body convulsed. A groan tore from my raw, scratchy throat. Whatever had been against my stomach was suddenly torn away.
“You’re hurting her.” That was Trent’s voice. Who was he talking to?
“I’m examining her. You do want to know what’s wrong, don’t you?” That was a woman’s voice I didn’t recognize.
What was happening? Last thing I remembered was getting out of bed. Where was I? What was going on? Was I dying?
I once again attempted to open my eyes, but it was useless. Tears spilled down the sides of my face, and I was powerless to stop them, or wipe them away. Why wasn’t my body working?
“Easy, Trent. She’s only here to help.” That was Whitney.
“Fine,” Trent bit out, his tone both angry and terrified. “Make her better.”
The cool metal returned to my stomach, and I whimpered in pain. My insides felt like they were on fire. I wanted everything to stop—the pain, the tears, the uncertainty. Rubbery fingers prodded the right side of my abdomen, and I screamed seconds before blacking out. Again.
“HOW’S MY FAVORITE PATIENT doing today?” Doctor Connors entered the room, smiling. His crisp white coat was unbuttoned to reveal too-tight black slacks, black tie, and a bright red collared shirt, also unbuttoned. A patch of dark hair peeked out.
I scrunched up my face, but my mother only grinned. Ugh. She refused to admit it, but I knew she liked the very handsome—and very single—Doctor Connors. As far as men went, she could do worse. Still, the thought of my mother dating was weird.
“Feeling like a new woman, thanks to you.” Mom shifted in the bed, sitting up straighter.
I rolled my eyes.
“Good. Any more headaches?” Doctor Connors asked as he began his daily checkup.
“She’s going to be fine,” Jax said.
The image of my mother and Doctor Connors faded, and sadness seeped into my chest. My mother wasn’t fine. She was dead.
Faint, steady beeping sounded in the distance. A heart monitor—the one sound I would never be able to forget for as long as I lived.
“Try saying that like you actually mean it,” Trent snarled.
“Guys, relax.” Whitney’s tone was calm. “All this tension isn’t going to help her recover.”
Recover from what? What was wrong with me? I wanted to ask, but my voice, like my limbs, wasn’t cooperating.
“If you two don’t cool it, I’m going to personally remove both of you from the room,” Whitney continued.
“Why don’t we go down
stairs and get some food?” Wyatt said. “Whitney will keep an eye on Chloe.”
Wyatt was here, too? Wherever here was. There was a lot of shuffling and then silence. Had they all left me? Where did they go?
“Remember that human anatomy class I told you about?” Whitney’s voice was super close, like she was sitting right next to my head. “Well, I actually learned quite a bit from that class, and one thing I’ve never forgotten was that the brain is our strongest muscle. It’s also our most confusing. Studies show people in comas can still dream and hear others talk to them. I really hope that’s true.”
Coma.
My thoughts tripped over that single word. I was in a coma? How? Why? Would I ever wake up? Or would I end up like my mother? Fear strangled me.
“So, if you can hear me, you have to fight this, Chloe. You’re my only friend. I need you.” She sniffled. “And Trent’s driving everyone crazy. If you don’t pull through this…”
“She’s going to pull through this, right?” My voice rose with hysterics, then cracked. “Please tell me she’s going to be okay.”
Doctor Connors was nothing more than a blurry blob in front of me, my tears making it impossible to see anything clearly.
“I’m so sorry, Chloe.” His tone was solemn, and he shook his head. “The probability of your mother waking up from this coma is very slim.”
“No.” I sobbed.
Aunt Beth wrapped her arm around me, tucking me against her side so I wouldn’t collapse right there on the hospital floor. “Can you give us a minute?”
“Of course.” Doctor Connors left the room.
The sound of the door latching made my knees buckle. But Aunt Beth held me tighter, and I sobbed uncontrollably against her shoulder. She stroked my hair, alternating between whispering “shh” and “I’m so sorry.” Neither offered any real comfort.
“You’re pale gray, Chloe. Ashy.” The venom in Jax’s tone startled me. “Know what that means?” His voice was suddenly much too close. “Death.” His breath whispered across my ear. “Don’t you dare die on me.”
I didn’t feel like I was dying. I just felt—nothing, really. The physical pain was gone, and my thoughts were quiet. My dreams weren’t anything I wanted to relive, but they were my typical nightmares.
A large, warm hand wrapped protectively around mine. “Please, Chloe. Come back to us.”
“No,” I said, stomping my foot like a child. “She will come back to us. I know she will.”
“She won’t,” Aunt Beth said as gently as possible. “You heard Doctor Connors. Your mom is brain dead, Chloe. The only thing keeping her alive are those machines.”
“Yeah, well, at least she’s alive.” I crossed my arms and glanced over at my mother’s prone, unmoving body. I didn’t want to believe the doctor. I didn’t want to accept the fact that my mother was as good as dead, that I’d never hear her voice again or see her smile.
“This isn’t what she wants, honey.” Aunt Beth rubbed my arm. “I won’t give the order until I know you’re okay with it, but she can’t stay like this forever.”
“How long is she going to be like this?” Trent asked. Exhaustion poured from every word.
“I don’t know.” It was the same unfamiliar female voice from before. “She suffered a trauma. Her brain needs time to heal. It could be days or months. There’s really no definitive way to tell.”
“It’s already been four days,” Trent said. Even though he didn’t raise his voice, I could still detect the bitter anger lacing his tone.
“Just keep talking to her. Maybe if she hears your voice, she’ll come around,” the woman said.
A second later, I could feel Trent near me, and any lingering fears I had vanished. He always had that effect on me.
“Chloe, honey. I need you to come back to me, okay? I’m not ready to live without you, not when I just got you back.” He clutched my hand, and hair tickled my knuckles. “I’ll never be ready to live without you, but I’m really not ready right now. You’re too young. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
Something wet landed on the back of my hand. Was Trent crying?
“I love you so much,” he said. “Please, I’m begging you. Don’t let my eternity of heartbreak start now. I can’t say goodbye to you. I can’t.”
Tears streamed down my face as I stood next to Aunt Beth and looked down on my mother. Her skin was pale, her lips dry and cracked, and her hair dull. She wasn’t the same vibrant woman who’d been my best friend. She was no longer my mother. Not really.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped my cheeks. “Do it.” I forced the words past my lips and nodded. “I’m ready to say goodbye.”
The sound of the heart monitor flatlining blared through the room, echoing like a bullhorn.
“Chloe!” Trent shouted my name. “Chloe!” He shook my shoulders.
I drifted into oblivion.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT:
Prognosis
MY EYELIDS FLUTTERED OPEN, AND THEN I quickly snapped them shut. Why was it so bright in the room? I lifted my arm, intent on shielding my eyes. Something stuck out from the back of my hand. A needle?
I attempted to push myself into a sitting position. Every muscle in my body protested, and my arms buckled, sending me slouching back down. It felt like I’d been asleep for years.
“You’re awake,” Trent said. He dropped his feet from the foot of my bed and stood in a single, graceful movement.
“Yeah.” My throat was like sandpaper. I needed something cold to drink.
“She’s awake,” Trent called over his shoulder, not very loudly because in a house full of vampires with enhanced senses, he really didn’t need to. “Get the doctor.”
“Doctor?” I cleared my throat and winced. “Ow.”
“What’s wrong?” He had his hand on my shoulder in an instant, concern dripping from him.
“I need some water,” I croaked.
Trent left my bedside for only a fraction of a second before he returned with a glass of ice water. I took the glass and drank a small sip, then another, and another. The icy liquid slid easily down my throat, soothing the raw ache.
“Thanks,” I said.
He eased down onto the bed and caressed my cheek. God, I’d missed his touch. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“Confused.” I took another drink of water. “What happened?”
Before he could answer, a line of people filed into the room—Jax, Sean, Whitney, Wyatt, and a woman I didn’t know.
Whitney rushed over to me, her eyes wide. “I am so glad you’re awake. I was gonna be really mad if I lost my only friend.”
“Whitney,” Trent snapped.
I placed my hand over his. “It’s okay. But will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
The woman stepped forward. “Hello, Chloe. I’m Doctor Mattias, and I’ve been caring for you.” She smiled, flashing unusually bright white teeth. Was she a vampire, too?
“No,” Whitney answered my silent question. “But she does know.”
I glared at her. “Out of my head.”
“Sorry.” She grinned sheepishly and held up her hands in a show of surrender. “Won’t happen again.”
“No what?” Trent asked, looking back and forth between me and Whitney. “Who knows what?”
“I was wondering if Doctor Mattias was a vampire, too,” I said.
Doctor Mattias flung her head back and laughed a little too hard. “Oh, no. I’m just as much a human as you are.”
She gave me a friendly smile, and laugh lines crinkled around her brown eyes. Her hair was short, barely touching her shoulders, and styled with tight curls. I liked her immediately.
“I’m the person people like Trent call when they need help,” she explained. “You could say I’m somewhat of a specialist.”
“Do vampires need medical attention often?” I asked.
Jax laughed, and I looked at him for the first time since he’d entered the room. His wor
ds from before floated through my mind. Don’t you dare die on me. Had he really said that, or had I been dreaming? If he did say it, had he meant it?
Wouldn’t my death make everything easier? If I had died, the coven wouldn’t be coming after me any longer, and I wouldn’t have to worry about the curse or if I wanted to break it.
“All right, everyone out.” Doctor Mattias clapped and then started shooing people from the room. “I need a few moments with my patient.”
Trent pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I sighed. I had no idea what happened to me or how long I’d been out of it, but it felt like an eternity, like I’d spent years away from Trent, deprived of his touch and his kisses. Longing for him was soul deep.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me, okay?” he said, brushing my hair back, his thumb caressing my forehead in the spot he’d just kissed.
I nodded. “I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you, too,” he said, but it lacked his normal emotion. Then, he left the room, too, leaving me alone with Doctor Mattias.
She closed the door, then approached. “So, how are you feeling?”
“Confused. I have no idea what happened.” I sat up a little straighter and winced at the way my muscles tensed involuntarily.
“Your appendix ruptured.” She crossed the room and retrieved a medical bag, which she then set atop the nightstand. Pulling out a stethoscope, she draped it around her neck. “I wanted to move you to a real hospital, but Trent and Jax were adamant that you not leave this cabin. So, they moved the hospital here.” She gestured with her hand.
It was only then I noticed that my room had been converted into a private hospital room, minus the sterile white walls, ugly décor, and constant stench of lemon cleaner.
“So, my appendix… is that why I was having so much stomach pain?” I asked.
Doctor Mattias nodded. “Yes. Thanks to Trent’s fast thinking, he was able to get me here quickly. I gave you a heavy dose of pain medication, and then Jax and Whitney gathered everything I needed so I could operate. I had to remove your appendix.”
Eternal Choice: (The Cursed Series, Book 2) Page 29
