Finding Strength (The Searchers Book 5)

by Ripley Proserpina

  “Yes,” Brant said. “And encouraging. She recognized you. She spoke. She moved her hand purposefully. Good stuff.”

  “You think she’ll wake up again?” Seok asked, edging closer to the bed. He stared at her, jaw tight. His hands were at his sides, and he brushed his fingertips over his jeans like he wanted to reach out but was holding himself back.

  “Probably,” Brant replied. “I’m guessing she’s not usually like this?”

  “No,” Apollo answered.

  “She’s the sweetest girl in the world,” Matisse added. “Though she does have a temper.” He chuckled, and Apollo smiled. Yeah. She wasn’t perfect, even if she was damn close.

  “You all can stay here. Hopefully, next time she’ll be a little more controlled. Talk to her, tell her she’s safe. But if I tell you to move…” Brant met the gaze of each one of them. “You move. Got it?”

  “Yes,” Apollo answered. His friends all made similar sounds of agreement and then they were alone.

  “Did you hear her?” Ryan asked. “She knew who you were. Talked to you.”

  He nodded, lifting her hand to his face and resting his cheek against it. “I did.”

  “What else did she say?” Cai asked. “I was too far away to hear.”

  “She asked me to stay.” He stared down at her. She’d said the one thing he needed to hear. “She needs me.”

  20

  Apollo

  10 years old

  Grandma dropped him off in the driveway. She said she was late and didn’t want to come in. All his cousins were still in the car, so it made sense. If Grandma got out, Anna, Victor, and Sasha would get out, and then they’d all run inside.

  It would be awesome and so much fun, but fine.

  Apollo ran inside, skittering to a stop when his mother’s incensed voice met his ears. “You can’t leave Mac! I need you!”

  “You’ve been lying in this bed for months, Tessa. You haven’t done a single thing to take care of yourself. Not therapy. I’ve seen the medications. You’re not even taking them every day. I have a job, and I’ve taken as much time off as I can!”

  “So take off more! I’m your wife! You were gone eighteen months; they can’t give you three?”

  Apollo shivered, cold suddenly even though it was ninety degrees outside, and they didn’t have air conditioning. A warm breeze blew in through the open kitchen windows, and he crept forward, his flip-flops squishing against the linoleum.

  “They can’t.” Dad’s voice was quieter. “I’ve done everything I can, Tess, but I’m doing all the heavy lifting here.”

  “Don’t we matter to you?” Mom asked. She sounded like she was crying, but this time, Apollo didn’t want to run upstairs and stop his dad. For the first time, he understood why Dad got frustrated.

  Mom wasn’t trying.

  “Don’t we matter to you?” Dad countered. “Your little boy was starving. The only time he ate was at school, did you know that? This house smelled like garbage and it seeped into the fucking walls. Go into the kitchen, Tess. Take a breath. He went to bed hungry every night. And you couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed.”

  Mom cried noisily, but he still stayed downstairs. He sat on the bottom step, leaning his back against the wall as Dad went on.

  “Each weekend, he went days without food. He filled himself up with water. Water. And he had no one. And now you lie here, and you make excuses about why you can’t take your medication and why you can’t go to therapy. It’s so fucking selfish. I can’t even look at you.”

  “So that’s it?” Mom asked. “You’re just leaving?”

  Dad’s footsteps stomped across the floor, and Apollo looked at the ceiling, tracking his progress. He knew when his dad was near the closet and when he was in their bedroom doorway. “Your mom will be by later to pick up Apollo.”

  “And what about me?” Mom asked.

  “You’re a grown woman, you can take care of yourself.”

  Mom laughed, and it was harsh. He winced. He’d never heard his mom laugh like that and it sounded nothing like her. “And you call me selfish.”

  “Get help, please.” Dad set something down. It thumped softly. “Tess.” His voice had changed. It sounded off, and Apollo stood nervously. Why did his dad sound weird? “Tess. Put that down.”

  It was the last thing he said. There were two sharp pops, and Apollo jumped. For a second, he thought that fireworks had gone off upstairs. But why would Mom light fireworks in the bedroom? Something hit the floor so loud the plates and cups rattled in the cupboards and then there was another pop, and something else hit the floor.

  Apollo stood, eyes fixed on the top of the stairs. The sun was shining through the window at the end of the hall and dust motes floated like snowflakes in the air.

  He waited for another noise. Another voice. He waited for his dad to yell or his mom to cry, but neither one said anything.

  Later on, he wouldn’t be able to say why he ran out the front door instead of upstairs. But for the rest of his life, and whenever he thought about the day his mom had killed his father and then turned her gun on herself, he’d be grateful for the instinct.

  21

  Apollo

  Present Day

  “Hey,” Matisse whispered. He sat next to Apollo. Nora had fallen asleep again, but they’d all decided to stay the night in the ICU. Just in case.

  “Yeah?” Apollo asked. He watched Nora’s face for any sign of awakening, but so far, she breathed quiet, even breaths.

  “I have a message on my phone about your fight.”

  Turning, he studied Matisse. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. Fight? What fight?

  Matisse often claimed that he had no idea what other people were thinking, but he managed to read Apollo’s mind. “The fight you’re supposed to have this weekend. Tomorrow.”

  Oh, shit. “The fight.”

  “Yeah. I talked to Marco, and I’ve been in touch with Hanley’s manager. They’re not real understanding, but the underground nature of the whole thing works in your favor.”

  That was good. Apollo didn’t give two shits about that fight anymore. “Thanks.”

  “Marco’s pretty much written you off. He said find another trainer.”

  Nice. Though he wasn’t really too surprised. His head hadn’t been in training for weeks. He’d been too distracted by all the shit that had been going on in his head. His jealousy. His neediness. He wasn’t the athlete Marco had started with, that was pretty obvious.

  “Okay.”

  “Hanley still wants to fight you.”

  “Fuck that shit,” Seok said, surprising him. Apollo hadn’t realized he was listening. “It’s not worth getting hurt.”

  “It was fifteen k, Seok,” Matisse reminded him.

  “Do you see the woman fighting for her life in that bed?” Seok pointed at Nora. “You really want us gathered around you the same way? Except this time it’d be your own damn fault.”

  “Seok,” Cai said. “That’s not—”

  “What?” Seok interrupted. “True? It would be. If Apollo got brain damage because he fought, and keep in mind there’s zero reason to do it, it would be his fault.”

  “There’s not zero reason, man.” Apollo wasn’t going to let Matisse and Cai fight his battle for him. “That pays the difference for school. I come out debt-free.”

  “Do what you want.” Seok waved his hand at him, dismissing him. He leaned forward, digging his fingers through his hair.

  Apollo opened his mouth to argue, but Ryan shook his head at him. “Not now,” he mouthed.

  Fair enough. All of them were sleep deprived and testy. It wasn’t the time to get into it. “Call Hanley’s manager,” Apollo said to Matisse. “It’s on hold until I know what’s going on with Nora.”

  “Okay,” Matisse answered and slid his phone from his pocket. He typed for a moment. “Done.”

  “Thanks.” The fight and everything related to it went right out of his
head again as Nora sighed and shifted on the bed. She lifted her hand to her head, but her eyes remained closed. They all stood, leaning forward like they were ready to leap into action. Her hand made a scuffing sound as she ran it over her head, toward the pillow.

  Nora groaned, shifting again, and slid her hand between her head and the pillow. She swept her tongue over her lips and opened her eyes. “Hurts.” She looked right at him, her eyes pleading.

  Apollo leaned over her. “What hurts, baby girl?”

  She moved her hand from her head down to her forehead, wincing when she came into contact with her stitches. But she didn’t answer.

  “What hurts?” Ryan asked from behind him. They all crowded around her, but she didn’t answer, except to say again. “Hurts.”

  “She’s awake.” Brant came inside. “You talking to us, Nora?”

  “She says it hurts,” Matisse told the nurse. He paced at the end of the bed, lifting his hands to his face and dragging them down his cheeks. “Something hurts but she won’t tell us what.”

  Brant went to her IV and started pressing buttons on the machine. “The swelling in her brain is probably giving her a nasty headache. I’ll page the on-call doctor. They may want to change up her pain meds.”

  Nora squeezed her eyes shut and rolled her head from side to side. Her blatant discomfort made Apollo ache in sympathy. If he could take her pain away from her, he would.

  Nora slid her hands to the neck brace. “Off.” She searched for the Velcro fasteners with her fingertips. “Take it off.”

  “Can she take it off?” Cai asked. Apollo could have answered that for him. They were going to keep that brace on her for days. “The fractures aren’t in her neck.”

  “It’s uncomfortable,” Brant said, “for sure. But it will actually ease some of the pain she’ll have from the accident. It won’t be on as long as the orthosis, but she needs to keep it on for now.”

  She opened her eyes, and her gaze roamed the room. “Please. Take it off.”

  “Did you page the doctor yet?” Cai asked, even though Brant was standing right here and hadn’t moved away from the machines.

  “Give the medicine a moment to work,” he said, “and then I’ll call him. We may be able to change the collars. But she just woke up, guys. It’s not going to be easy.”

  Seok took a breath, like he was ready to lay into the nurse, but Ryan moved fast, standing in front of their friend. “Whatever we can do to make her more comfortable. Please.”

  On the bed, Nora began to relax. The medicine was definitely helping, but her eyes were still squeezed shut, like she was uncomfortable.

  “Let’s keep the lights low,” the nurse said. “Try not to disturb her. Between the headache and her inability to move the way she wants, she’s going to be cranky. The best thing to do is get sleep and be ready to deal with that.”

  “What do you mean?” Apollo asked. None of them would take their sleeplessness out on her.

  “Y’all need to be as patient as you can possibly be with her, because she’s going to try you. If you’re exhausted, you might lash out. It’s going to be a long road, so don’t burn out now.”

  The nurse had a point. “He’s right,” Ryan said. “Who goes and who stays?”

  They glanced at each other, no one volunteering, and finally, Ryan sighed. “I’ll go.”

  “Me, too,” Cai answered.

  Seok, Apollo, and Matisse glared at each other, none of them wanting to give in. Brant was right, but he wanted to be here, watching her, in case anything happened. In case she opened her eyes for even a second.

  And she’d also asked him to stay. Not Ryan. Not Tisse. Not Seok. She’d looked at Apollo and said, “Stay.”

  “Fine,” Seok said. “I’ll go, but Tisse comes, too. You’re healing as well and need to rest.”

  Apollo almost laughed at the look of betrayal on Matisse’s face. Brant nodded. “Good idea. Go. When I come back in here, the only people I want to see are Nora and Apollo.” He went out the door, leaving the five of them alone.

  “Your cell charged?” Matisse asked through gritted teeth.

  He slid the phone from his pocket. “Yep.”

  “We’ll be back in the morning,” Ryan said. “Then it’s your turn.”

  “I’ll take a nap while I’m here,” he answered, not agreeing or disagreeing with his friend.

  Ryan narrowed his eyes, clearly aware of Apollo’s hedging. “Call if anything changes.”

  “Of course,” he replied.

  Each of his friends made their way to the bed. They touched Nora gently, careful of her bruises and scrapes, and then they were gone.

  It was just them now. Apollo scooted his chair closer to the bed and rested his arm on the metal bedrail. “I’m here, baby girl,” he whispered. “I won’t leave you.”

  Nora woke up another four times during the night. Each time she tried to get the damn cervical collar off, but the doctor wanted the hard plastic one on another day or so.

  It was a long-ass night. Apollo never realized how time could drag on when the sun went down. He was tired—fuck—he’d never been so tired, but he stayed glued to her side, watching.

  She was gorgeous with short hair. He missed her crazy curls, but with her hair shorn, her entire face was exposed. He loved the way her eyebrows arched over her eyes, and the tiny freckle she had at the corner of one brow. He’d never noticed it before, but now, with ample time to study her, he memorized every line and feature.

  The doctors came in for their rounds, and he left, making his way down to the cafeteria to get coffee. He poured in cream and sugar, aware of the irony of eating shitty food when he needed to be as healthy as possible.

  He paid for the cup, took a sip, and hurried back to the ICU. Funny how in a few days, he and his friends had built a routine around this place. The doctors would be with Nora at least a half hour, and he’d be in the way. But now that she was waking up every so often, he wanted to be around. Just in case.

  He drank his coffee as the elevator rose. It wasn’t so bad. Nothing like his green smoothies, but it would give him the boost he needed until the others came back and he went off shift.

  If she wanted him to go.

  The doors opened, and he hurried down the hall, anxious to get back to her. The doctors were gone when he went into her room, but she had a little pucker between her eyebrows, which made him think she was starting to wake up.

  He sat, transferring the coffee to one hand so he could hold her hand with another. Her skin felt smooth but dry. The nurses had given her a sponge bath, cleaning off the dirt and dust from the highway. The climate-controlled space, the windows that didn’t open, it all combined to dry Apollo’s nostrils and make his throat itch.

  He couldn’t imagine how Nora felt.

  Actually he could, but he didn’t want to dwell on it too much. It hurt his heart to think she was in pain.

  “Apollo?” She said his name before she opened her eyes. She blinked at him, and he wondered if she’d been having a dream.

  “I’m here,” he said. “You’re okay.”

  There was more alertness in her eyes, they roamed the room in a way they hadn’t yesterday. Like she actually saw where she was now.

  “You had an accident. But you’re okay. You’re in the hospital.”

  Her eyes widened, and she tried to sit up. Sucking in a sharp breath, she rested back on her pillow, eyes shut. “I hurt.”

  “I know,” he said. “You’re pretty banged up.”

  “My head.”

  “Does it hurt?” he asked her, thinking about the killer headaches she was going to have to endure while her brain healed.

  “Yes.” She lifted her hands and stopped. Her eyes opened, and she studied the cast. A moment later, she panicked. She grabbed her collar, touched her stomach, ran her hand down her face. “Apollo.” Her voice was breathy, shaking.

  “You’re okay. This is all to help you heal.” She panted, the sound raspy and uneven. “It’s
going to hurt because you broke bones.”

  He didn’t know how much to get into it. Did he tell her that she’d broken her ribs and that was why she couldn’t take a deep breath? Or fell so hard she had to wear a hard plastic orthosis? The hand was obvious, but what about her brain? Would she remember any of it? Process it?

  Understand him at all?

  “Nora, look at me.”

  Her eyes had closed, but she followed his directions. He made sure to smile, to relax his shoulders. “Good job, baby girl. Now listen, it’s going to hurt, but I want you to breathe with me.” He took her good hand and placed it on his stomach. “Feel how I breathe and do it with me.”

  He took regular breaths, not too deep and not too shallow, and in seconds, her eyes had lost the wild look and her body had relaxed. “Good job.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Smell the flower.”

  He chuckled and brought her good hand to his lips. “That’s right. Smell the flower, cool the cookie. You got it.”

  She grimaced and took her hand from his. She touched her forehead, just above her stitches and lightly ran her fingers across it, like she was trying to rub away her headache.

  “It’ll hurt awhile. Your brain is healing from a concussion.”

  Rather than answer, she kept her eyes closed and reached for him. He thought she wanted to hold his hand, but she gently swatted it away until she found his chest.

  He held it against him. “We’ll just breathe together, okay?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, licking her lips. “Yeah.”

  22

  Nora

  The world was hazy but somehow too bright and too loud. Her brain throbbed, she could literally feel it, like the organ had a pulse. It hurt.

  So fucking bad.

  Nora wished she could open the top of her head and grab her brain. Maybe she’d toss it on the floor, maybe she’d just leave her skull open, like it was the top of a can, so it didn’t push against her skull.