24. Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-four
Deacon
I had to be dreaming.
Had to.
Except I’d never had a dream this good. I lay on something so soft, it might’ve been a cloud, sugar all around me, warmth at my side, cocooned in a comfort I’d never experienced…
So how could I be dreaming it?
I cracked one eye open. A distant light broke through the shadows in the room, outlining the rounded woman who lay in the bed beside me. There was no mistaking her. That was when memories came to me in flashes.
Phoebe’s face, her hands on me, her supporting my body. Cold water, medicine, moving. Icy blue eyes peering at me, a stethoscope on my chest, bitter medicine in my mouth. Phoebe’s voice reassuring me, staying beside me when I basically begged her not to go.
I’d never felt as shitty as I did right now, but if I were given the choice to feel better in an instant, I wouldn’t have taken it if it meant leaving this bed. I knew I’d never get back here.
I must’ve made some sound because Phoebe shot up on her elbow, her hand going to my forehead.
“You’re burning up again.” Her face moved closer to mine. “Deacon?”
“Right here,” I forced out the words with a whole lot of effort. As good as it was to be beside Phoebe, I felt like I was moving and breathing in a thick layer of sludge laced with spikes. My entire body ached, and the simple act of speaking took more energy than I had.
“I’m going to help you sit up so you can take more medicine.” I must’ve groaned because her voice dropped, low and soothing. “I know, honey. I know you don’t feel good, but you’ll feel so much better after a little medicine and water.”
I couldn’t say I helped her much in getting me upright. My body was pretty much deadweight, but she managed. Her touch was gentle but firm, guiding me without a hint of hesitation. I watched her bustle around the room. The way her hair caught the light, the way her brow furrowed with worry…it didn’t make sense. None of this did. Why was she here? She had no good reason to be taking care of me. Hell, she had every reason to turn her back and leave me to fend for myself.
Then again, that wasn’t who she was. She was a much better person than anyone I knew. Of course, she’d take pity on me. But that didn’t explain how I’d ended up in her bed. I racked my fever-fogged brain, trying to piece together the fractured memories. Last thing I remembered was stumbling toward my door, the world tilting sideways. Everything after was a blur.
The mattress dipped as she perched on the edge of the bed, her hip pressing against my side. My arm fell across her lap, heavy and clumsy, fingers curling instinctively into the soft warmth of her stomach. She stilled, her breath catching for just a second before she relaxed, letting me hold on to her.
“Dreamin’,” I mumbled, my voice a rasp. “Know it.”
Her lips twitched, a faint smile breaking through her worried expression. “You think I’d be in your dreams?”
“Always are. This is the best one, though.”
She huffed as she dabbed a washcloth along my forehead. “You’re very sick, honey. I can’t imagine how this could be a good dream.”
I blinked open my eyes, looking up at her. She was haloed by the light behind her, golden and soft, her edges blurred. Or maybe that was just her.
“Angel girl.”
She shook her head. “It’s probably better if you don’t talk so much. You might end up saying things you’ll regret when you’re better.”
I slid my hand up her side. Here, in my dreams, I was allowed to touch her. “How do you feel so good? Can’t be real.”
“Deacon.” Her hand, cool and a little wet from the washcloth, landed on mine. “You need to rest.”
Rest. I was already sinking, my limbs heavy with fatigue. But I didn’t want to let go—didn’t want to leave this dream where she was mine to hold. I fought to keep my eyes open, to memorize her parted lips and the flush in her cheeks. So damn beautiful, my angel.
Sleep was stronger, though. It pulled me down, dragging me into darkness. Just before I went under, I felt it.
A whisper of warmth.
The ghost of her lips brushing against my knuckles.
Next time I woke, I was alone in bed, but I knew I wasn’t by myself. My eyes flew open in a panic. My head rolled sideways, finding the other side of the bed as empty as expected. Rolling my heavy head the other way, I nearly pissed myself at the woman sitting in a chair two feet away.
She calmly looked up from the book she’d been reading. “Phoebe went in to work for a few hours. She asked me to stay with you until she gets back.”
Unless my eyes were playing tricks on me, I was pretty sure this woman was Elena Kelly, Phoebe’s mom. This continued not to make sense, but the way I was feeling, that wasn’t a surprise. My brain wasn’t working at full steam. None of me was.
“She’s gone?” It wasn’t easy, but I pushed myself into a sitting position.
“I offered to make the muffins, but she declined. Not that I have any clue why.” Elena stood, leaving her book on her chair, and closed the small distance. Like her daughter, she pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t watching you sleep. I heard you stirring and rightly assumed you’d be waking up soon, so I came in here to wait. You’re still running hot. We need to get more medicine in you. Do you think you’d be up for taking a shower? You’re starting to get ripe.”
I blinked at her, taking in everything she’d said and getting stuck on me stinking. Sweating all over Phoebe’s sheets. Disgusting and gross. She’d be glad I was gone when she finally turned me out.
Elena put her hands on her hips. “Meds first, then we’ll see if you’re steady enough to get in the shower. I brought the stool my father-in-law had to use after he had surgery so you can sit. Phoebe would murder me if she came home to you having cracked your skull on my watch.”
“I—thanks. Thank you.”
Making my mouth move was difficult, but I wanted to tell her thank you for being so kind to me. I shouldn’t have been surprised Phoebe came from a mom like this, acting like her generosity was nothing special.
Her movements were fluid as she flitted around the room. First, she dosed me up and made sure I drank as much as I could. Then she opened the curtains and cracked a window. “Letting the sickness out,” she’d said. After, she brought me breakfast and fed me by hand when my arms proved too damn weak to do it myself.
“Thank you,” I said again.
“That’s not necessary, Deke.” She shook her head. “I would hope if one of my kids were in your position, someone would help them too.”
Elena Kelly had always been a mythical story I’d only heard bits and pieces of. The queen of the Kelly fortune she ruled with her husband, Lachlan. I’d seen her in town plenty. With her icy-blonde hair and height putting her above most women and a lot of men, she was impossible not to notice. Never thought I’d have the opportunity to spend time with her, though. Hadn’t even considered what it might be like. If I had, it wouldn’t have been like this. Feeding me, caring for me, being nicer to me than my own mother had ever been. It made me uncomfortable. I didn’t understand it.
Didn’t know how to handle it either.
“Lotta people wouldn’t,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed. “I think there’s more good in the world than you know.” She lifted a shoulder. “But suppose you’re right. Suppose most people wouldn’t help someone in need. Should that stop me? Honestly, Deke, once upon a time, I tried being like everyone else, and it made me utterly miserable. Ages ago, I decided to do what I wanted, damn what anyone else thought, and surprise, surprise, I found my happiness. I’m helping you because I love my daughter, and she cares about you. There’s nothing more to it.”
Fortunately, she wasn’t waiting for a response. I couldn’t begin to formulate one. Even if I hadn’t been sick and sluggish, I didn’t think I’d know what to say to her. I did see where Phoebe had gotten her straightforwardness from, though. Knowing that poured a good kind of warmth into a hollow part of me.
Elena dragged my smelly carcass into the bathroom after breakfast. I was so damn wobbly she had to help me take my clothes off but refused to let it be awkward.
“It’s either me or Phoebe. I have a husband and two sons. There’s nothing you have I haven’t seen before, kiddo.”
By the time I was finished with my shower, I felt steady enough to put on my own pants. Dressed and clean, I shuffled into the bedroom, finding she’d stripped the sheets and replaced them with fresh ones. Shoved back into bed, I had my temperature taken then was bundled under the covers.
As I fell back to sleep, I thought this must’ve been what having a real mother was like. Wouldn’t that be nice…
I woke to warmth and softness, but this time, I could easily discern it as real. Not a dream anymore, even if it felt like one. Phoebe was stretched out beside me, her side flush with mine.
“Did I move?” I croaked.
With a gasp, she dropped her phone onto her chest and turned her head. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah.” I scrubbed my face with my hand. “Did I move over to you?”
“No.” She rolled to her side, propping her head on her hand, and reached over, tentatively stroking the edge of my jaw with her other hand. “When I got into bed, you kept writhing and groaning like you were in pain. I scooted close to check on you, and you settled down, so I stayed.”
I exhaled toward the ceiling. “I’m not surprised I wanted that. Surprised you stayed, though.”
“Really?” I turned back to her, and her eyebrows lifted. “I’ve been taking care of you for twenty-four hours, and you’re surprised I stayed beside you?”
“Surprised about that too.” I rubbed my dry lips together. “Thank you. You want me gone, I can go. I’m feeling better.”
She shook her head. “I’d like you to stay at least one more night. You’re still feverish and, from what my mother said, pretty weak. You shouldn’t be on your own.”
“I don’t wanna get you sick.”
“I took extra vitamin C . I’ll be fine.”
“Not gonna be happy if you get this.” That was an understatement. I’d be pissed as hell, and it’d be aimed squarely at myself.
“Worry about getting better. I’m fine.”
Not waiting for me to argue—not that I had it in me to do so—she hopped out of bed and started fussing over me. Temp, meds, water, then she brought me soup and fed me herself like her mother had. I couldn’t begin to guess why she was doing this, but I soaked up every ounce of her attention while I had it because I knew it was temporary.
I’d keep on dreaming, just a while longer.