As Darkness Gathers (Dark Betrayals Book 2) (11 page)

When I woke again, my room was dark save for the faint glow spilling through the cracked door from the hallway. I rolled onto my side and found my mother sleeping in a chair pulled close to the bed. I pushed myself to a sitting position, wincing when the movement pinched the IV in the back of my hand.
 

The rustle of the sheets woke my mother. “Are you okay, honey?”

“I’m fine. I just need . . . I need to go check on them.”

“The two young men who went for help with you?”

I nodded, chest tight.

She didn’t try to dissuade me, merely unclipped the heart rate monitor from my finger and made sure the ties of my hospital gown were secured. The tops of my toes and my heels were bandaged, and I sucked in a breath as I stood.
 

My mother wrapped a strong arm around my waist until I was steady. “I’ll just be here,” she said, settling back into the chair.

The hospital floor was cold beneath my feet, and the IV stand creaked as I rolled it along with me. I limped down the hallway and peered into the second room to the left, which Timothy and Daniel were sharing, and blinked at the sight of a familiar pink head lolling against the back of a chair drawn close to Daniel’s bedside.
 

“Julia?”

My voice had been just a whisper, but she jerked upright, glancing around. She relaxed when she spotted me in the doorway and came to my side, stretching and rolling her neck. “Should you be out of bed?” she asked, her voice low.

“I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

She shrugged with deliberate nonchalance. “Just keeping an eye on them as they sleep.”

Both seemed to be sleeping deeply, and a soft snore escaped Timothy’s parted lips.

“Have you been here all night since you left my room? I thought you’d checked in at a hotel?”

Her cheeks turned a shade that rivaled her hair. “I meant to, but I got sidetracked.”

I watched her face. “You waited until they were asleep, didn’t you? They have no idea you’re watching over them.”

She pursed her lips. “And where are you off to at this hour of the night, missy?” She shook her head and smiled, not bothering to wait for my answer. “I still haven’t met him. I want a proper introduction to Wonder Boy soon.”

I chuckled. “Wonder Boy?”

“Yep. Go on, I want to get back to practicing uncomfortable sleep positions. I’ve come up with twenty-seven so far. I should write my own Kama Sutra.”

“Good night.”
 

“Night. Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She slipped back into the Hutchisons’ room and curled up in the chair.

Shaking my head, I tiptoed to the adjacent room. Clay’s door was open, and the low light above his bed was turned on, but he was asleep as well.
 

I crept closer, pausing when the IV stand’s wheel squeaked, but when he didn’t stir, I continued to his bedside.

Stitches bisected his eyebrow, and his cheek and jaw sported raw scrapes and bruises. His hair was too short to be rumpled, but dark stubble softened his square jaw.

His eyes opened suddenly. They were the pale blue of a cold, clear winter’s day, ringed with a deeper shade of blue until the color darkened to black along his irises. I realized for the first time that for all his humor and effortless charm, his eyes always seemed to be . . . searching.
 

“Hard to sleep when someone’s boring holes in you with their stare.”
 

I studied him, but that dry, wry voice made me smile even as I apologized. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

His lips quirked, and he rolled his hand over on the sheet, opening his palm toward me. I placed my hand in his, and he tightened his fingers around mine. “You did it, Finch.”

I stepped closer. “
We
did it.”

“Timothy said you saved my life.”

“Only with his help.”

He was silent a moment, staring at our clasped hands, and then he looked up and met my gaze. “Thank you.”

I bit my lip. “Do you mind?”

That quicksilver grin made an appearance, and he released my hand to lower the railing on the side of the bed. “Addicted to me now?”

I lined up my IV stand next to his and crawled into the space he made as he slid over. It was a tight fit, even curled around him. “I keep waking up, afraid we’re back out there in the woods. It . . . it scares me when I wake up alone.”

He pulled me closer and rested his chin on the top of my head. He shifted and then the light clicked off. “Should we call Timothy in here to join us so you’ll feel better?”

I pinched his side, his flesh firm and unyielding beneath my fingers, and he chuckled.
 

“Comfortable?”

“Not particularly,” I murmured, eyes drifting shut.

The pervasive sense of being watched woke me. I blinked, trying to clear the bleariness from my eyes, and peered at the couple who stood in the doorway.
 

The woman was about my height with dark, shoulder-length hair, stunning blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. She looked like the quintessential girl next door. The man behind her, however, looked ferocious.

“El.”
 

I jumped at Clay’s voice and struggled upright.
 

“This was all it took to earn your devotion? Defying death?”

Her laugh was low and warm, and so infectious I couldn’t help but smile.
 

“It’s not the way I’d recommend, Clay, so don’t try it again.” She turned to me. “Hello, I’m Eloise Car—O’Malley.” Her smile tilted further to one side than the other, and a thin scar angled along one cheekbone. “Still getting used to saying it.”

As she stepped to Clay’s bedside, I noticed a slight, almost imperceptible limp to her walk. The towering man with wolfish features moved on silent feet behind her.

“Finch Rhodes,” I said, shoving a hand through my hair. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, weaving for a moment before I caught my balance.

“She’s the flight attendant who saved all of our lives,” Clay said.

My face burned. “That’s an exaggeration.”

“Clay tends to do that, but in this instance, I believe him.” Eloise clasped my hands. “Thank you. He’s a friend of ours.”

“So I’m a friend now?” There was teasing warmth in Clay’s voice.
 

The woman’s eyes narrowed and a flush moved up her cheeks. She turned to Clay, her hands on her hips.

“Now you’ve done it, Gandy,” the other man murmured.
 

His voice was gravelly and held a slight accent, and I couldn’t help staring at him as I caught hold of my IV stand. His gray eyes locked with mine, and though he didn’t smile, the harshness of his face eased a bit. There was a hard undercurrent in his tone when he said Clay’s name, and I found myself curious about their connection.
 

I crept from the room, attempting to escape unnoticed, when Clay’s voice stopped me in the doorway.

“Hope you slept well, Finch.”

I turned to see his eyes crinkled in amusement. I could only imagine how I must look. “Blissfully,” I said. “I hope you have a crick in your neck.”
 

With my dirty hair certainly standing on end, dark circles under my eyes, the IV stand creaking behind me, and the hospital gown fluttering around my knees, my exit was less than dignified, but Eloise’s laughter carried after me, making me smile.

Members of the Federal Aviation Administration and the National Transportation Safety Board made their rounds, and I recounted the crash in as much detail as I could remember. It was exhausting, and once they left, I found myself fighting to keep my eyes open.

“You rest, sweetheart,” my mother said. “Your father and I are going to go to our hotel room, and then we’ll be back.”

A knock on my open door woke me sometime later. “Since you missed our date Tuesday,” my brother said as he entered the room, waving the paper sack he carried. “I brought dinner to you.”

I recognized the logo on the bag. “Chicken noodle soup from The Cooling Rack?”

“And a loaf of their bread.” He rolled the serving tray over.

The deli and bakery near our parents’ house had always been one of our favorite places to eat. “You’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother.” He leaned over in a sudden, jerky movement and wrapped his arms around me.
 

I hugged him back just as tightly, my eyes burning when his breath shuddered. He cleared his throat and pulled back, keeping his gaze averted as he took the lid off the Styrofoam bowl and the smell of homemade chicken noodle soup wafted into the air. “I kept it in a cooler on the drive up here and just warmed it up in the cafeteria.”

He maneuvered the tray over my bedside, and I cupped my hands around the bowl, bending my head over to inhale. My stomach protested the wait, but I took a moment just to smell it.

“You okay, Finch?”

I nodded.
 

The first meal the hospital had offered me had been a plate of tasteless mashed potatoes, peas, mystery meat, and green Jell-O. I’d eaten so quickly I’d made myself violently ill.
 

A tremor shook my fingers as I lifted the spoon, and the flavor was so rich, I had to fight the urge to turn the bowl up and drink it.

“I called Jeremy,” he said, and I glanced at him in surprise. “Dad told me you two broke up, but I thought he should know.” He scowled. “He never called me back or responded to my messages.”

I wrinkled my forehead. Jeremy was nothing if not considerate. “Did he—”

“I hope we’re not interrupting,” said a soft voice from the doorway.
 

A young woman with long brown hair entered the room pushing Tula in a wheelchair, and Tula held an infant wrapped in a pink blanket in her arms.
 

I moved my tray out of the way and sat on the edge of the bed to peer into the baby’s face. Her miniature features made me smile. “Tula, your great-granddaughter is beautiful.”
 

She beamed. “She’s named after me, too. And this is my granddaughter, Lyla. I wanted you to meet her.”

The young woman didn’t shake my proffered hand. Instead, she enveloped me in a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.

They only stayed a few minutes, as Lyla’s husband had already gone to retrieve their car. Lyla was a nurse, and the hospital had released Tula into her care.
 

“You’ll write to me?” Tula asked as she grasped my hand.
 

I kissed her cheek, and the scent of talc and lavender filled my senses. “I will.”
 

Once they’d left, Darcy said, “Mom said the doctors are releasing you tomorrow, too.”
 

I nodded, unsure why I felt overwhelmed by the prospect.