Finding Wisp Page 27

  But a second later, all those thoughts dissipated.

  Because Wisp suddenly teetered to the side before abruptly collapsing.

  Fear squeezed at my heart, and I was bolting across the yard, shifting back into my human form before I’d even made a conscious decision to do it.

  “Wisp!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Wisp!”

  The last thing I was aware of before the black surrounding the edges of my vision crept all the way in was Derek yelling my name. He sounded scared, and I desperately wanted to open my mouth and say something – anything – to assure him that I was fine. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite get my lips and tongue to work together to do so.

  Even if I had, I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach – right next to where it felt like my entire left side was on fire – that it would have been a lie.

  Thus, it was with thoughts of Derek on my mind that I drifted out of consciousness into the welcoming arms of oblivion.

  There were glimpses of awareness…

  A sharp stab of pain caused my lungs to constrict, an involuntary whimper limping out from between my lips. Hands were pressing into the gaping wounds on my side, and there was a soft, reassuring voice in my ear, whispering sweet nothings: “I’m so sorry, honey.”, I have to stop the bleeding.”, “Can you open your eyes for me?”, “Please, just… please.”

  * * *

  The distinct impression of flashing, red lights behind my eyelids.

  “What happened?” a man’s voice demanded. It was vaguely familiar, and whomever the voice belonged to sounded distinctly panicked.

  …Ash?

  “What the hell do you think happened?” That was definitely Derek. “A fucking mountain lion attacked us.”

  “B-but she’s not even supposed to be here! There was a fire, and her father-”

  “She can be wherever the hell she wants! She’s a fucking adult, isn’t she? Now, shut up and help me put pressure on these until the ambulance gets here.”

  * * *

  The distinct sound of beeping medical equipment as something – some sort of mask – was placed over my mouth and nose.

  * * *

  For a long time after that, my thoughts were suspended in a thick sort of fog. I wasn’t sure if it was medically-induced or not, but either way, I couldn’t say I minded. Because the haze muted the pain as well.

  I hovered in that thoughtless, painless space for an indeterminable amount of time before my next bout of consciousness.

  The first thing I became aware of as the fog slowly lifted was the smell. The overpowering scent of antiseptic and latex gloves.

  My eyelids were ridiculously heavy, but somehow, I managed to pry them open. My thoughts were still jumbled – it felt a bit like my head was stuffed with fluff – as I took in my surroundings.

  Just as I suspected, I was in a hospital. For a few terrifying seconds, as I took in the plain, white walls of the tiny room and the pale green sheets of the bed, I had no idea who I was. Then I saw him – a huge bear of a man half-draped over my lap, his eyes closed in slumber, and a name occurred to me.

  Derek.

  And just like that, everything came flooding back.

  I remembered how Derek had found me, half-drowned in the river, before deciding to take me in. I recalled the cabin, and Thane, and all the time we’d spent together walking the land, tending to the chickens, and… other things, before Derek had given me away.

  Cornelius’s face flickered through my mind, and Marianne’s. I remembered Felix and the basement, and how Derek had rescued me from both. Then there was Abram and… and the baby.

  I swallowed hard, my gaze unwavering from the man sleeping on top of me, his ear pressed to my chest in a way that would have been ridiculously endearing if I wasn’t currently reliving the way he had reacted to the news that I was pregnant with his child.

  And then… and then Felix had come for me.

  Everything that happened after that was a muddled mess in my head, so convoluted that just thinking about it made me dizzy. I blinked hard in an effort to dispel the sudden wooziness.

  “Wisp?”

  I tensed, quickly taking in the fact that Derek was still fast asleep on top of me before managing to crank my head to the left – the direction the voice had come from. Sitting in an uncomfortable-looking chair, similar to the one Derek’s behind was perched on, was Abram.

  The sight of him caused more memories to rise to the surface, what Felix had implied about my parentage rushing to the forefront of my mind – how the first time he had seen me I was “just a baby sleeping in my soon-to-be-dead mother’s arms”.

  Fiona’s arms.

  Which would make Abram my… he was my…

  “Dad?” I mumbled tiredly.

  My brain must have been working even more sluggishly than I thought because the word that slipped out of my mouth had absolutely no business doing so, and even under the blanket of drug-induced grogginess, I knew enough to be embarrassed.

  The man froze at the out-of-place moniker before seemingly shaking off his surprise. He swallowed hard. “No, darling. It’s Abram.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Darling?

  I must have been in bad shape if the usually gruff man was using such sweet endearments. “I’m sorry…” I slurred, tongue unusually clumsy from what I assumed were the concoction of drugs running through my veins.

  I hadn’t meant to… it was just…

  Abram leaned over and used his hand to brush back the little hairs sticking to my sweaty forehead. “It’s alright,” he assured. “You… you’re just a little confused.” More than he realized. “I’m not surprised, the amount of drugs they gave you could have tranquilized a horse, and you’re just…” he trailed off, at a loss for words.

  “A wisp of a thing?” I muttered, some of the first words Derek had ever spoken to me springing to mind.

  “That’s right,” the man agreed. “Derek’s wisp of a thing,” he added, more to himself than anything. “You… you just close your eyes and go back to sleep, alright?”

  It sounded like a splendid idea.

  I could already feel the bliss of unconsciousness calling, and with the soothing motion of Abram’s hand in my hair, it was easier than it should have been to surrender.

  * * *

  An indeterminable amount of time passed before awareness once again prickled the edge of my senses. Much like the first time I’d awakened, the initial thing I became cognizant of was the distinct smell of hospital.

  The second thing was the sound of arguing. “What do you mean she woke up last night?” a voice demanded incredulously. “And you didn’t see fit to rouse me?”

  I knew immediately that it was Derek, and I spotted him as soon as I opened my eyes, yelling at Abram near the doorway.

  I was more clear-headed than I had been the night before, and considering Derek wasn’t yet aware that I was awake, I took a moment to just look at him.

  To put it bluntly, he was a mess.

  Derek’s hair looked as if a tornado had landed in it, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed almost sinister against the paleness of his skin – which was usually a golden tan color from the sun. His stubble was creeping into beard territory, but even under the unmanageable scruff, his jaw looked somehow sharper than I remembered – almost as if the man had lost weight.

  Which was ridiculous. I couldn’t have been out that long.

  Regardless, Derek truly looked the worst I had ever seen him. (He was still unbelievably handsome, of course, but undeniably frayed at the seams as well.)

  I listened as Abram scoffed at his obvious upset. “She was barely even aware of her surroundings,” the man argued. “It was hardly worth waking you over. Not when you’ve barely slept yourself.”

  “Her eyes were open,” Derek bit out in response, “and you didn’t. fucking. wake. me.”

  Abram shook his head. “She was only awake long enough to mum
ble a few incoherent words before drifting off again.”

  “She said something?” Derek asked, sounding somehow even more disbelieving. “What did she say?” he immediately demanded.

  Embarrassment buzzed under my skin as I recalled the word “dad” tumbling out of my mouth, and I knew it was time to interrupt them.

  “Derek?” I called out, attempting to push myself up into a sitting position, slightly confused to find the lower part of my right arm in a cast.

  The man stiffened as soon as his name left my mouth. Quickly recovering, however, he whirled around to face me. He rushed into action when he saw that I was trying to sit. “Don’t!” he snapped, hurrying to my side, hands incredibly gentle despite his brusque tone as he forced me to lie back down. “You’ll rip open your stitches.”

  “Stitches?” I repeated dumbly, but Derek was no longer paying attention to what I was saying. He had taken my face carefully between his hands and was busy scrutinizing me as closely as I’d been poring over him moments before.

  “I’ll just leave you two alone,” Abram mumbled from where he stood on the other side of the room before disappearing into the hallway, making sure to shut the door behind him with a quiet click.

  Derek was silent as he continued to examine my face, his thumbs moving almost… reverently as they brushed back and forth over my cheekbones. Up close, I could see that his own face was marred by claw marks – three lacerations that stretched down the length of his forehead, one of them missing his right eye by a mere inch.

  I tripped on the porch steps, a sharp cry falling from my mouth when I foolishly caught myself with what was almost certainly a broken arm.

  The worst part, though, wasn’t the pain. It was that the noise I’d made distracted Derek.

  He jerked around to check on me, and my heart hiccupped in my chest when the mountain lion – Felix, the hysteria-tinged voice in my head reminded me – lashed out at him, sinking his claws into the sensitive skin of his snout.

  I shook off the remnant of memory, unable to stop myself from reaching out and carefully tracing the marks with my fingers. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  The hands on my face froze, and Derek stared at me with blatant incredulity. “Am I okay?” he repeated dully. Then… “Am I okay?” He ripped his hands from my face, digging his fingers into his hair and pulling agitatedly at its roots. “You!” He accused. “You fainted from blood loss and have been unconscious for days! You needed over a hundred stitches in your side and a blood transfusion – not to mention the fact that your arm is broken in two fucking places. I have a few insignificant scratches already half-way healed on my face and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

  Taken aback by his impassioned response to the question, I bit my lip. I had the feeling my face would have been tomato-red if my body had enough energy left in it to blush. “Sorry,” I muttered shamefacedly.

  I could physically see Derek’s anger drain from him at the word, his stiff shoulders deflating and the hands falling from his hair. He dropped to his knees by my bed, tall enough that he still easily hovered over me. He took the hand not wrapped in a cast in his. “No,” he murmured, “don’t be sorry. You’re right. I’m not okay. But only because I almost lost you, Wisp.”

  I swallowed around the sudden lump of emotion in my throat. “I…”

  “Please,” he said, pulling my hand to his face and pressing a kiss to my knuckles, “for my sanity’s sake, tell me that the next words out of your mouth aren’t going to be another apology.”

  “No,” I immediately denied, even if it was partially a lie. I had been about to say “sorry” again. But more importantly, I had finally processed Derek’s spiel about blood loss and stitches and something important – or rather, someone important – had occurred to me.

  The baby.

  I licked my lips, hesitant to bring the subject up with Derek, but also desperately needing to know. “I was just going to ask… is the baby okay?”

  To my surprise, Derek didn’t react with any sort of visible upset to the question. He merely nodded his head before reaching forward with his free hand and tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “The baby’s fine,” he assured quietly.

  I took a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “And… is that fine?” I asked.

  Derek’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I mean,” I said, injecting as much boldness into my voice as I possibly could, “is it fine with you that the baby’s okay?”

  Derek’s entire expression faltered. “Of course it’s fine with me.” He released my hand in order to drag both of his down his face. “Fuck, honey. I’m sorry about how I acted before. When you told me about the baby, I thought…” he trailed off, clenching his jaw before taking a deep breath and continuing. “Well, I thought that Felix had raped you,” he said bluntly – my stomach lurched – “and that the baby growing inside of you was his. I was on the cusp of losing control of him – of myself – and I didn’t want you to see. That was why I left, because… well, because I didn’t want to scare you.”

  I quietly processed his explanation. “I… he didn’t rape me,” I said eventually.

  It was impossible not to notice the way Derek’s entire demeanor changed at my words – the way he relaxed into himself. And yet, I knew that what I’d said wasn’t the entire truth, and I was so sick of keeping secrets that I bit my lip before hurrying to add, “I… I mean, he touched me sometimes.”

  Derek stiffened at the reveal, his knuckles turning bone-white as he clutched at the bed sheets. Regardless, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. “But not… that is to say, the baby could only be yours,” I finished lamely.

  Derek swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before he offered me a jerky nod. “I know that now.”

  “So… it’s okay with you then?” I pressed. “That I’m going to have a baby… your baby?”

  Derek cupped my cheek. “More than okay.”

  The rush of relief that came along with the assurance was positively euphoric. “Good,” I muttered. “Good.” I pressed my lips together, knowing it was my turn to ease his fears. “And, just for future reference, I don’t think anything you could ever do would scare me.”

  (Besides, of course, abandoning me again, but I didn’t say that out loud.)

  Derek shook his head, his hand falling back to his side. “That’s not true,” he protested. “You’ve been so jumpy since Abram and I got you back from that godforsaken basement. Flinching away from me whenever I move too fast, sinking into yourself whenever I touch you.”

  “Not because of anything you’re doing!” I immediately denied. “Trust me, Derek, your presence, your touch… everything about you makes me feel better – safe. It was Felix who…”

  Derek’s shoulders tensed at the name, and I froze, too, when another memory barreled into me.

  Derek roared – the sound a mix of anger and pain, and even from my spot on the cabin’s porch I could see that Felix was slowly gaining the upper hand on him. If I didn’t do something soon, there was a very real chance that Derek would lose – die.

  And what exactly are you going to do? The pesky, albeit panic-stricken voice inside my head demanded. Felix is a mighty mountain lion, and you’re a barely five-foot tall human female who weighs about one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet.

  The answer came to me immediately. Derek’s rifle.

  Racing into the cabin, I quickly grabbed the weapon where it sat near the door. It was heavy, but ignoring the sharp twinges of pain that carrying it sent shooting down my side – I was vaguely aware that Felix’s claws had grazed me after I’d stabbed his hand and before Derek could pull me away from him – I hauled it outside.

  It was tricky maneuvering the gun with my arm how it was, but through sheer power of will, I was somehow able to bring the butt to my shoulder.

  I flicked off the safety, and looking through the scope, I took aim in the direction of the battling predators. Felix and Derek we
re so close together, though, and moving so rapidly that my finger hesitated to squeeze the trigger.

  What if I missed and hit Derek by accident?

  Pressing my lips together, I tried to remember all the advice that Derek had given me about shooting the gun. I wasn’t supposed to be tense, I knew, so I forced myself to take a calming breath and made an effort to relax my shoulders.

  What else had he said?

  “Trust yourself.”

  That’s what he had told me all those weeks ago.

  So focusing on the mountain lion – on Felix – that’s what I did.

  And when an opening presented itself, I took my shot.

  “Wisp!”

  I was forcefully pulled back into the present by Derek’s concerned voice. Sometime while I’d been reminiscing, he had stood and was looming over me. His brow was lined with worry, and I had a feeling it wasn’t the first time he’d called my name.

  I bit my lip. “I shot him, didn’t I?” I demanded. “Felix. I… is he dead?”

  The muscles in Derek’s shoulders loosened at my obvious cognizance. “Yes,” he confirmed. “You hit him right beneath the ear.”

  He sounded equally disbelieving and proud.

  As for me, I waited for the guilt to kick in. After all, I’d taken a life. Surprisingly, though, I didn’t feel bad. I didn’t feel vindictive, either, despite all that Felix had put me through. I just felt… relieved.

  I nodded. “What happened after that?” I asked.

  “After you fainted, I called the police and claimed there had been an animal attack.” He rolled his eyes. “Abernathy was the first on the scene, of course, but he had no choice but to take my word for it considering the evidence. There was a dead mountain lion on my property, and the gashes on your side were clearly claw marks. Not to mention my own injuries and Thane’s-”