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I won’t waste my energy focusing on silly words from a lunatic. Refusing to engage, my attention doesn’t leave Remi’s form. I hear rather than see the asshole come closer to me. By the shrinking shoulders of his wife, I know he’s too close for comfort. Yet I remain unflappable.
“If I had to run around with your brat all day, I’d throw myself in front of a moving vehicle too.” He talks so conversationally, like we’re discussing an arbitrary situation, not his own flesh and blood with a possible traumatic brain injury.
“Father!” Kiara scolds.
Bile burns up my esophagus, and my body shakes with rage. Again, I say nothing because I have no response right now. None that is appropriate or helpful to the situation. Remi needs positivity, and that’s exactly what he’ll get from me.
“You’re despicable,” Granada spits through her teeth.
“And you’re a bitch past her prime and her worth. Not that you were ever worth much,” he grumbles, odious. “I should have known addicts breed other addicts.”
What the fuck is happening? Does this man really need to spew his vitriol next to his comatose son?
“Stop!” Evangeline finds her voice.
The bed starts shaking, and my heart collapses on itself. Remi’s body is convulsing while his heart rate is going wild. His choked gasps are a thousand serrated knives piercing my skin. Clutching my chest, I start to hyperventilate. I need to do something, but my body is frozen in panic.
A rational thought cracks through the icy trauma. I cry out in anguish, rising to my feet and running to the door. “Help! It’s Remi! Please!” A horde of medical personnel rush into the room and I stagger back, sliding against the wall. “Save him! Please!” I wail, tearing out my hair.
“Everyone out!” the doctor yells, but I’m immobile as I watch on in horror. “Two milligrams of Ativan!” he shouts.
Remi’s body jerks and jolts like a ragdoll. It’s terrifying to watch, but I can’t for the life of me look away. I’m being shredded alive from the inside. So much pain. “God, no. Remi. No!”
My breath comes out in shallow pants, and I can’t seem to take in enough oxygen. My vision goes spotty then blurry, and I physically feel the moment my legs turn to jelly.
Someone wraps their arms around me and pulls me out of the room. I try to reach out to my love, unwilling to leave him but unable to fight off the panic threatening to pull me under. “No, please!”
The room spins before everything goes dark.
Chapter 25
A Lioness Defending Her Pride
Mae
“I’m right here, baby.” His beautiful form stands in front of me, happy, full of vitality, and more breathtaking than ever.
Oh, thank God. “Remi?” It was only a nightmare. A horrific illusion gripping my mind. But when I go to wrap myself around him, my arms swipe through nothing.
“That’s not going to work anymore,” he says with a smirk.
My brows smash together. “Why not?”
“Because I’m dead, Queeny.”
Agony’s fire blazes up my back, scorching my flesh and my resolve. There’s a shrill ringing in my head. It crescendos into an ear-splitting pitch. I’m in utter hell.
Ice-cold water douses my face and I snap awake, wheezing and choking.
“You’re okay, sweetie. Just take a deep breath.” A loving British accent replaces the blaring torment. A woman wearing scrubs strokes my hair and helps me respirate.
“R-remi? P-please,” I beg.
“Oh, honey, he’s stable now.” Compassion is written all over her face. My cheeks puff out in an exhale. “That’s right. Let’s manage your oxygen intake and calm your heart rate.” When she sees the steady rise and fall of my chest, she smiles. “I’m nurse Vicky, and I’m here for anything you need.” She hands me a cup of cold water.
I take a greedy drink. “What happened? Can I see him?”
Her pretty eyes turn weary. “He had a seizure,” she explains. “It’s not uncommon for comatose patients to have an episode within the first couple of days of being under.” She covers me up with a warm blanket, and that’s when I realize I’m on a recliner in an empty hospital room.
