My body slams against the floor, a giant heap of bones, blood, skin, and bruises. I let out a low moan, but nothing else. The room is bathed in silence and I close my eyes. Internally, I tell myself not to fall asleep, worried that the number of blows to my head could have given me a concussion, but I can’t keep my eyelids open. They slowly close and the world around me goes peacefully dark.
I hear a soft voice next to me, then my body is moved and I let out a moan of pain, it slides throughout my entire being, until I’m placed on something soft. Must be the bed. I let out a sigh, feeling as if I’ve run a marathon.
The soft voice comes to me as soon as my pain eases. A hand slides down my back as her voice continues to speak. I can’t understand her words, my brain unable to concentrate, but her soothing touch and her soft voice lulls me back to a blissful peace.
“He hasn’t even moved,” that voice speaks again.
I can’t open my eyes. I can’t call out to her or even try to move my arm. I’m frozen and again, I drift off. I don’t know how long I’m out. It could be days, it could be hours or even minutes, but when I try to open my eyes, the room is bathed in darkness.
My eyes won’t open very wide, they’re swollen shut, but I can see a little around me. I can tell I’m in the same holding room that I’ve been staying in. There is moonlight pouring in from the barred window, but that’s about all I can tell.
“Are you awake?” that soft voice asks, speaking again.
I feel the bed dip as someone sits next to me, then I feel a gentle graze of a hand down my bare back. I don’t know when I lost my shirt, but it’s probably a good idea, I have a feeling that it was covered in blood.
“It’s Pamela,” she breathes and I let out an exhale. At least I know that she’s safe, for now. “You’re going to be okay. The doctor came and checked you out when you didn’t wake up for two days straight. He said you’re banged up, but everything looked okay for now.”
“How many days?” I ask, taking a breath between each word.
Just those three words are downright exhausting. I let out a sigh and close my eyes, attempting to open them also takes far too much energy.
“Just rest, Dylan. You need rest.”
I hear her voice soft in the background, but again, I can’t make out her words. She shouldn’t be here with me. She shouldn’t be taking care of me. I don’t deserve any of this, maybe one day I can earn a life where she’s mine, but right now I don’t deserve a fucking thing.
The world around me goes dark again and I’m filled with aching sadness as everything from physical to mental pain consumes me.
Rolling onto my back with a groan, I notice that it’s a little easier to open my eyes, and it’s also bright as fuck. With a sharp intake of breath, I regret that breath and also opening my eyes. It’s so bright it hurts.
“You’re awake,” Pamela breathes.
I feel her body sink down on the mattress next to me, and I tip my chin down to look at her. She’s fucking beautiful, a vision, and I’m sure I look exactly how I feel—like shit. Reaching out, I place my hand on her thigh, squeezing it as tightly as I can, though it’s not very tight at all, my fingers have zero strength to grip.
“Are you hungry? You’ve been out for a while.”
“How long?” I wheeze, my throat and lips feeling as dry as the desert around me.
Pamela watches me for a moment in silence, her gaze searching my own before she speaks. She clears her throat, her hand reaching out, and I feel her cool fingers graze my face.
“Seven days. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it in the beginning,” she murmurs. “The doctor came and checked you out, gave you an IV, then left. He came back again yesterday and gave you another IV.”
“Fuck,” I croak.
She licks her lips, then lifts her hand again and slides her fingers through my hair. “You need some food and water.”
Closing my eyes, I love the way her hands feel on me, too fucking much. “And a shower,” I grunt. She laughs softly, then her hand falls away and I hate the loss of her.
“And a shower,” she says as she shifts off of the bed and stands.
I watch as she walks across the room, then without a word, slips out the door and leaves me alone. I decide to take the opportunity to try and take a leak. Pushing myself up to sitting, I hiss with the pain that consumes me.
Grinding my teeth together, I force myself to stand and before I can even attempt a step, my feet go out from beneath me. I let out a groan as my ass hits the mattress. Gripping the sheets, my knuckles turn white as I attempt to breathe through the pain.
The door opens and I hear a gasp. Lifting my head, I look up to see Pamela standing with a tray in her hands and a man standing behind her. It’s the doc. Blinking, I jerk my chin. Pamela hurries to my side, setting the tray down on the floor beside my feet.
“Don’t move too fast, I need to examine you,” Doc announces.
Pamela watches me as the doctor approaches, but she doesn’t make a move to leave the room and give me privacy. She doesn’t, she stays exactly where she is, the only move that she makes is to straighten her knees and stand beside me.
The doc begins his exam, but the entire time all I can do is stare at the woman
