Page 6 of A Fate of Ice and Lies (Fated #1)

I was familiar with the look he gave me. It spoke of pride and hurt, where he worked too many hours for far less money than he needed. I had no doubt he provided for his family the best way he could, but they still went without.

“That’s okay.” I patted his bony arm. “Why don’t you get a cart, and we’ll fill you up with some medicine and food?”

His nod was jerky, and while he rushed to get a shopping cart, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out, and after I rejected Ryenne’s call, I quickly texted her to let her know I was almost done.

Not wanting Ryenne to worry and send Donnie to check on me, I rushed through the aisles, making a mental note of everything I placed in his cart so I could mark it off inventory the following day.

“This is a lot,” he whispered when we went through the third aisle, and I continued putting items in his cart. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“That’s what we’re here for.” My words came out calm despite the way my heart ached.

I wanted to do more for him. Needed to do more. He and his family were hurting, his wife dying.

When I reached the back of the store, where the refrigerators lined the wall, I tipped my chin toward the baked ham.

“Think your family would like one for Easter?” I asked.

His red-rimmed eyes turned glassy, and he nodded. “Thank you.” His low voice was laced with pain.

I gave the problematic door a tug to no avail. I grunted with another hard pull. It ultimately gave with a final jerk. As I reached into the refrigerator, the man yelled and tried to push me out of the way, but before I could clear it, the refrigerator and everything inside of it toppled forward.

Pain lanced through me when I fell to the floor with the heavy refrigerator on top of me.

Trapped. I was trapped. My lungs flamed and struggled with each ragged breath as I tried not to let my anxiety rear its ugly head.

I’d get out of this. I had to.

The man tried to heave the refrigerator off me. I tried to help him, but it wouldn’t budge. I pushed harder, the pain in my body intensifying. My head swam, and black spots narrowed my vision to almost nothing.

“I-I. . .” the man said.

I blinked when I felt his hand circle mine. His panic made mine escalate, so I took a deep, slow breath in that I let out on a quick, painful whoosh.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, my eyes growing heavy. “I’m okay.”

Eyes wide, he squeezed my hand with a sweaty palm. “I have a jack in my car,” he rushed out. “I think I can lift the fridge with it.”

I blinked a few more times until the man before me was replaced by my earlier hallucination. Ethereal and stoic, he seemed to watch me with unblinking eyes.

“Help me,” I whispered.

Rather than my handsome hallucination, the man leaned closer to me. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

Tears trekked down my cheek as I watched him leave.

I was tired. So very, very tired. I tried again to push the refrigerator off me, but pain ricocheted through my body while the stupid fridge didn’t move.

Strangely, or perhaps miraculously, I could just make out that a shelf had stopped the full weight of the fridge from collapsing on me

Time passed. Seconds or minutes, I couldn’t see beyond the dizzying haze to where the man had gone. Had he run and left me here to die?

I remembered Ryenne and our taco date, and hoped she’d worry enough to let Donnie know I was late getting back home.

If she’d texted me again and I hadn’t replied.

. . Maybe, maybe she’d let her grandma’s eternal worries rub off on her enough that she’d ask Donnie to swing by the food bank to check on me.

The man returned, breaths heaving as he slammed his knees to the floor. He positioned the car jack under the fridge and took a quick look beneath it before cranking it up.

The refrigerator moved, and pain ripped through my stomach to my back. I screamed in agony as he inched it higher. Each slight movement felt like a rageful fire torching me.

“Stop!” I yelled, my throat raw.

A freezing blast spread over me for a few breaths, distracting me from the pain. Ice-cold wind lashed against my face. It was so bizarre that I lifted my face to the ceiling where snow fell.

“Please,” I yelled when the weight shifted again. “Stop. You’re killing me.” It came out as a whimper.

The refrigerator jolted, and I screamed again. Mercifully, the man stopped trying to lift the fridge, and when I turned to him, he wasn’t there. Tears ran down my face, mixing with the snow that fell around me.

Impossible. Unless .. .

“I’m dying,” I croaked out .

I tried to remember the medical texts I’d read while still in high school with high hopes of becoming a doctor but couldn’t recall a single thing remotely similar to this.

“I should hope not.” The man from my hallucinations knelt beside me, taking up the spot where the other man had been.

His face was far prettier than I’d first thought, with an edge of masculinity that made me wonder if I was using the right word to describe him.

“Great.” I sighed, the slight movement making me groan in agony. “I’m already dead.”

His full lips curled in a hesitant smile that grew as I continued to stare at him.

Dimples peeked out on either cheek, and I caught a glimpse of something dipping from his parted lips.

Something sharp, like teeth maybe, but that couldn’t be.

In hopes of clearing it, I shook my head but immediately regretted the movement.

“You’re not dead, and you certainly better not be dying.” His deep but low voice was powerful.

“Can you help me?” I didn’t dare move aside from blinking my eyes to see past the threatening dark spots.

“I can help you.” He said it kindly, almost reverently as if helping me was all that mattered. His smile widened, and I stared at the sharp fangs that seemed to lengthen before my eyes.

I arched my back in pain as he hefted the weight off me. I reached a trembling hand to where it hurt the worst and felt the hot stickiness of the blood that pooled through my shirt from a deep gash on my stomach.

“Hospital,” I gasped out.

His fingers ran over my face in the most tender of caresses.

As I knew it’d be, his skin was soft and smooth, sending a shiver across my body.

He then moved that large, gentle hand over my arms to my stomach, where he pressed his palm.

A chill pierced the wound, and I cried out when the pain sharpened—my ribs seemed to splinter, my skin tear and burn, until.

. . all the pain disappeared. He kept his palm there, and inexplicably, I ran a finger over the back of his hand.

He seemed to tremble at my touch, and when I met his gaze, his eyes had darkened into two black orbs.

When he turned his face up and away from me, I felt the absence of his smile.

He sniffed once, worry lines creasing his forehead. “Did you take care of the male?” he asked someone without looking at me.

“Yes,” a male voice I didn’t recognize answered.

Those impossibly dark eyes seemed to soften as he took me in.

With careful movements, I lifted the bottom of my blood-soaked shirt and traced where the wound had been.

As in, it was no longer there and no longer hurt.

But I knew I hadn’t imagined it. The blood soaking the floor was proof of that.

In an instant, the blood on my clothes and floor was gone. Just. . . disappeared.

“How?” I drew my brows together. “But how?” I repeated.

Rather than answering, he ran his hands over my arms. “You’re cold.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh. “It’s snowing.” I looked up at the ceiling. “Or it was moments ago. God.” I pressed a hand to my temple once again. “Maybe I have a brain tumor. I think that can cause vivid hallucinations.”

He wrapped a warm blanket around me. A blanket I hadn’t seen him carrying .

As I drew the blanket closer to my chest, I said, “I think I should go to the hospital to get checked out.”

“You think me a hallucination?” he asked, confusion written in his glistening eyes that had lightened in color but were still darker than a simple violet.

“I mean . . .” I lifted a hand and let it drop to my lap.

“It was snowing moments ago,” he told me. “I brought it with me when I came for you.”

Like that made any sense.

Not understanding what was happening—what was real and what was a hallucination—I pushed myself up, and he helped me into a sitting position.

When the world didn’t tilt or circle, I shifted to my knees, and with his hand on my elbow, I stood.

A flash of heat rose to my neck and face while my vision blurred.

How could I be standing when I’d been sure I was dying moments ago?

I couldn’t see the man who’d tried to help me or even the fridge I’d been trapped beneath.

A sudden urge to vomit rose, so I licked my lips and took a long inhale through my nose.

My lungs filled, this time without any pain or discomfort, which didn’t make sense.

“I need to see a doctor,” I whispered.

This man, this stranger, put one hand on my waist and the other at the base of my neck. When he peered down at me, I focused on his eyes. On the impossibility of their color that was more beautiful than any shade of violet I’d ever seen.

A woman came to my side. She was just as breathtaking and strong-looking as the man.

“My friend Donnie,” I pushed out and licked my lips. “He’ll know what to do.”

“I’m not a healer, but I can see inside you to make sure Elias healed you entirely,” the woman said. “If you’ll allow it. ”

Elias. Was that this man’s name? I wanted to say it, taste his name on my lips.

Confused, I dug the rounded edges of my nails against the palms of my hands.

“Humans are different from us,” said a man who came to stand beside the woman. Not surprisingly, he was just as stunning as his companions. “How can you tell if she’s healed?”

Humans were different from them? Did that make them. . . aliens?

And why did that thought make me feel more at ease? At least if they were aliens, I might not have a brain tumor or be dying. Maybe?

It wasn’t until the third man joined them that I remembered where I was and how I’d gotten into this predicament.

A second wave of nausea and dizziness hit me so hard, I gripped my hallucination’s arm to keep me from falling. Worry lines creased his forehead as he slipped an arm around my back.

I ignored the sudden thrill of being this close to him.

“There was a man with me.” I reached where the gash on my stomach had been. Where I was sure my ribs had broken. “There was a man,” I said more adamantly. “He needed. . . he. . .” I shook my head. “Is any of this happening? Am I losing my mind?”

Kind eyes peered down at me, and I had to fight the urge to curl up closer to him. This wasn’t normal. Not just the fact I was talking and touching someone who wasn’t real but this desire for him that felt more like an anguished need.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” my hallucination promised.

“He didn’t. . .” I whispered .

But I was tired, so very tired. Rather than explaining how the man hadn’t hurt me, I leaned against the gorgeous stranger. When he rested his chin on the top of my head and hugged me close to him, I didn’t care if I was crazy or dying.

At that moment, I felt a peacefulness I’d never felt before—a sense of being exactly where I was supposed to be. Of being loved and cared for beyond all reason.

It was almost funny. Leave it to me to fall for a figment of my imagination.