Chapter Forty-three
Ugh.
My head is pounding. And my tongue is fuzzy.
I reach up to feel my head, and, oh my God, my hands. Hurt doesn’t even begin to describe the pain. My eyes fly open. I’m disoriented by the overhead light. Someone… a nurse?... comes in, looks at a machine to my left, fiddles with something, and then I feel a rush of euphoria that dulls the pain.
It hurts to raise my hands. They’re bandaged from my fingertips to my wrists. Why?
The nurse talks to someone in the corner then leaves.
It’s Blake. He’s the someone in the corner.
I look around frantically. I’m in a bad dream. I can’t sign.
Blake rushes over, grinning with all his teeth. “Hey.” The relief on his face is palpable. And the bags under his eyes tell me he’s probably been sitting in that chair for a very long time.
I look from his eyes to my hands then back at him.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. You’ll have to wear the bandages for about a week, but the doctors think you’ll heal up just fine.”
I look at him in confusion. Why am I here? And after the way I left him, why is he here? And what the hell happened to my hands?
“Ellie, do you remember anything?”
When I don’t answer, because I still feel as if this is a dream, he pulls a chair over, signing what he can but also speaking. “You’ve been in and out of it all night. The pain medication has kept you asleep mostly. The doctor came in earlier but said you might not remember.”
I shake my head, hoping to wake up, but then the pain around my temple throbs.
“You hit your head. It’s not bad. No concussion.” He fingerspells concussion.
Though it hurts, I lift up a bandaged hand and tap it to my head then my chin. He immediately understands.
“Your parents have been here all night too. Once you woke up and they knew you’d be okay, they went to help Tara. I guess she and your mom have a lot in common.”
As soon as the words come off his lips, everything comes rushing back. Grant bursting into my apartment. Threatening Tara. Holding us at gunpoint. Pouring hot coffee all over my hands. I lean over the side of the bed and vomit. Not much comes out. My head pounds again.
“It’s okay,” he signs then holds a cup of water with a straw near my lips. “You’re going to be fine.”
Reluctantly, I drink, but only because my throat feels like sandpaper.
Now that I’ve concluded this isn’t a dream, I wonder how any of this can be okay with Grant still out there? And how are my parents helping Tara?
I go to ask him, but the bandages and the dull ache remind me I can’t.
“You have questions,” he says. “I’m here to answer all of them. I was there. And once you’re not so drugged, the police will want to interview you.”
The tip of my right middle finger sticks out of the bandage. I wiggle it at him.
“Why was I there?” he asks.
I nod.
“I came for you, Ellie. I wasn’t about to leave things the way we did. When I got there, I heard screaming. I burst into your apartment and Grant shot me.”
My eyes widen, searching his body for injuries. He stands and opens a slit in his jeans, showing a bandage. “Don’t worry, it’s just a scratch.”
I shake my head, terrified. Grant shot him? And he’s still out there? I look to the door.
He waves a hand to get my attention. “You don’t have to be scared. He’s gone. After I broke down your door, he and I tussled, the gun he was holding came loose, and Tara got hold of it and shot him. Grant is dead, Ellie. Tara saved us. He’ll never hurt anyone again.”
He’s dead. Grant is dead. He shot Blake and mutilated me. But now it’s over.
I close my eyes and blow out a long, relieved breath.
He puts a gentle hand on my arm, and I look up at him. “What were you thinking trying to help Tara without telling anyone?”
I look down at the covers.
He puts a finger under my chin and guides my face back up. “I’d have helped. Don’t you know I’d do anything for you?”
Tears come to my eyes. There’s so much I want to tell him.
“Beth is here. Do you want me to send her in?”
I shake my head.
“Is there anyone else you want me to call?”
I shake my head again. All I can do is stare at him. He came after me. And because he did, Tara and I are alive, and Grant can never hurt anyone again.
He. Came. After. Me.
Emotions I can’t even explain flow through me.
“You want to tell me something,” he says. He doesn’t arch his brows. It wasn’t a question.
I gently raise my bandaged hands and set them back down.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to sign. I know what you want to say.” He sits on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid my hands. I move one up to my stomach to give him room, and he puts a hand on my leg as he looks directly into my eyes. “You want to tell me you thought about it and changed your mind. You changed your mind because you realized how stupid it would be to throw away what we have. You know we’re perfect together. You know we don’t need words or signs to talk to each other. You knew it from that first day in the market when we saw each other from across the store. We’re perfect together because I can read your eyes like I’m doing right now. And you know what they tell me? That you love me.” He signs, “You love me, Ellie.” He brushes a hair off my forehead. “I don’t need you to sign it. I don’t need you to text it. I don’t need you to write it down. I don’t need any of that, because I know it’s true.”
I swallow. I swallow hard. And it hurts. Because the tears caught in my throat sting so much, I almost forget about the pain in my hands. But this hurt, it’s a good one. He’s right. He does know me. And we don’t need words.
Which is why I decide to give him some.
I lick my lips. Then I speak.
“I love you, Blake,” I say, hoping I’m clearly enunciating the first words he’s ever heard me speak.
I thought he’d be surprised. Pleased, even. But strangely enough, he doesn’t seem to be. His teary eyes look into mine as he puts a finger to my lips. “I don’t need you to say it, either. All I need you to do is look at me.”
So I do. I look at him. And we stare at each other just like we did that first day. We’re connected on an almost telepathic level. He doesn’t sign. He doesn’t talk. But his eyes speak volumes. And it’s everything I’ve ever wanted to hear.