Page 30 of A Sixpence For Your Shoe (Revenge Brides #6)
MISHA
A steady, sharp, constant beep pierces into my nightmares and tugs me towards the real world.
I try my best to push it away, to stay in the darkness with Vincent. I’m lying on his chest, peaceful and happy.
He smiles and takes my hand as he runs his fingers through my hair. “Don’t go, little raven.” He whispers.
“I don’t want to. I want to stay here.” I whisper back, snuggling my face against his warm body.
The beeping gets louder, and voices infiltrate my thoughts.
“No.” I gasp in fear, watching Vincent fade beneath me. “No, please, don’t leave me.” I beg him as small glittering particles of dust fall through my fingers where I was once holding his hand.
“She’s waking up.”
“Misha, can you hear me?”
“Switch that off.” Voices flood my mind. Chaos and noise that I don ’ t want.
“Misha, can you hear us? You’re in State Orion Hospital. You’ve been in a coma for two months. Just take it slow honey. Take it slow. Focus on your breathing.”
I swallow as pain shoots through my throat. Reaching up I brush my hand over my neck.
“Take the tube out. She doesn’t need it anymore.” Someone says.
Blinking my eyes open, people swim in and out of focus around me. Blue and white coats. Nurses and doctors, all peering at me with wide, curious stares.
Something tugs from inside me, a gross sensation ripples over my throat, and I cry out against it.
“It’s ok, almost done.” A gentle voice says. “Ok, it’s out.” They toss the tube aside and I take in a sharp breath of air. My throat still hurts.
“There, get a glass of water.”
Someone lifts the back of my head and presses a cool glass against my lips. I sip it. Slowly. The tiniest amount of water spills into my mouth and images crashed into me - my body sinking beneath the waves. I wanted to die. I was meant to die. I didn’t want them to find me.
“Misha, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” A deep voice says with concern, and I sense fingers thread through mine and my heart leaps with hope.
Is it Vincent? I squeeze his warm hand.
“She’s with us.” The doctor says.
The fingers gently squeeze back. “You were in an accident, sweetheart. The yacht - it exploded. There was a gas leak. You’re ok though. They found you floating in the water. The rescue team got to you just in time. You had hypothermia. You were incredibly lucky to be found.”
I shake my head.
“Vincent.” I mumble through dry lips.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, your husband didn’t survive.”
Why did they talk me into this?
How and why did my mother and Celso talk me into this?
Tears flood from the corners of my eyes and hate wells inside me.
All I want is him.
My love.
My Vincent.
The man with a monster in his heart as dark as my own.
How can I live without him?
THE END