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“Doc, is he going to wake up soon?”
“Please tell me he’s going to wake up.”
“Katie, he’s tough. He’ll wake up.”
Voices fill my head. Where am I? Darkness surrounds me. I try to talk, but nothing comes out. Soft hands touch my arm.
“Aiden, please wake up,” the quiet voice says. Katie?
Why can’t I move?
Beep … beep … beep.
What is that fucking noise?
“Everything looks great,” a male voice says. “He just went through a tough surgery. Give it some time.”
Surgery? Why can’t I remember anything?
“Have you guys got any leads?” That sounds like … Jaxon? Leads on what?
Someone sighs. “They went underground with her. But we’ll find her,” Max says.
Her? Who’s missing?
Think, Aiden. Think.
“I love you, Aiden.” I watch her walk away. A black van. Screams. Blackness.
No, Addison!
Beep … beep … beep … beep.
I will my body to move. To do anything. I need to wake up. I need to tell them who has her. I know who has Addison. FUUUCKK!
“Nurse, what’s happening?” Katie’s voice is rushed.
“Not sure, but his blood pressure is spiking. We’re going to give him some pain meds.”
My body feels heavy and my head feels light. Thoughts spin around in my head like a kaleidoscope. I’m falling back in slow motion. Sleep finds me at the bottom.
“Aiden, can you hear me?”
I feel like I’m walking through a tunnel and someone is at the end, calling out to me. The male voice echoes. Something pulls me to it.
“Aiden, can you open your eyes?” There it is again.
Trying to understand what he’s asking shouldn’t be this hard. I swallow. Holy fuck that hurt. My body tenses up.
“Are you thirsty?” the voice asks. I nod my head. “I have a drink right here.”
Something touches my lips. I slowly open my eyes, squinting as the bright light floods my vision. I see someone holding a drink in front of me and feel a straw touch my lips. I cautiously take a sip, afraid it’s going to feel like glass going down my throat. Out of fear, I blow out the breath I was holding, but it doesn’t feel as bad as I expected.
I clear my throat as I look around the room. My sister, Katie, sits right next to my bed. The soft smile doesn’t match the tears running down her face.
“Don’t cry,” I mumble. My voice is hoarse and it sounds like I swallowed a cup of broken glass. I clear my throat again.
“Aiden,” the doctor says. I turn to look at him at my other side. “I suggest you don’t try to talk for a while. Your throat is going to be sore for a couple days.” He continues to ask me questions while he checks me over, wanting me to nod yes or no. I look down at the tube coming out of my chest and wince when I try to sit up.
