Western Flame

Chapter 40

Murmured conversation faded in and out, but Liana didn't want to open her eyes. If she did, she would have to face the light that was filtering through her eyelids, and whoever was in the room.

Her entire body was pulsating, a strange, fuzzy, dull ache sliding over her from her head to her toes. She fluttered her eyes open, but the light was too bright and she squeezed them shut again. As soon as she did that, what she had done slammed through her, the thought freezing her entire body. It's over. You're safe she thought to herself, the sounds of the hospital filtering in.

She had lunged for DJ first. He had twisted at the last second, and her screwdriver sunk into his neck instead of his arm. She hated the sound as she had pulled it back out, like a rubber boot being pulled from a mud puddle. His eyes had connected to hers, and then the gush of bright red blood sprayed everywhere. When Percy had reacted, reaching for her, she'd just attacked him, stabbing forward over and over blindly. She didn't remember much after that until Tanner had said her name, and cut her free, holding her in the back seat before she was carted away into the ambulance.

She kept her eyes shut, willing the images from the truck to leave. She didn't want to think about it, swallowing back the burn of sickness it was bringing on. Think about something else.

Tanner. He had come for her, and was there when she needed him most. She wanted to curl back up into his arms instead of being stuck in the hospital bed where she could feel every lump. She fuzzily recalled the ambulance ride, his presence beside her, holding her hand, not saying a single word, the tears that he tried to hide damp over her hand.

The beeping of the monitors she was hooked to, the throbbing pinpoint of the IV dropping what was likely strong pain medication into the crook of her left elbow made it hard to avoid the inevitable. She whimpered as she tried to shift up, pain shooting down her left arm. All the murmuring stopped and a hand reached out and smoothed the hair back from her forehead. The hand smelled like roses, and she furrowed her brow. That was Nancy's hand cream, she was sure of it.

If Nancy was here, it meant they'd come home from their vacation early and she opened her eyes slowly to make sure, because that seemed out of place. Everything was blurry, and she blinked.

"Nancy?" she asked, and the hand continued its soothing touch over her forehead.

"I'm here sweetie," and Liana turned her head to see her foster mom, with Jeremy, her foster dad, perched on an impossibly small stool, his long legs folded up like a frog. He had tears in his eyes as he reached out and touched the tip of her nose with his finger.

"Hey there pumpkin," he said, his voice low and soft.

"You aren't supposed to be back yet," she rasped and tried to sit up. Nancy pushed her shoulder gently back down as she raised the bed from a button below the folded arm rest. She held out a cup with a straw, and Liana dutifully took a sip. Her entire jaw ached, her lips felt parched and split, and even that felt like a monumental effort.

"Ouch," she muttered, and Nancy immediately pulled out a tiny jar of Vaseline, and applied it to her lips for her. Liana let her, knowing full well that if she didn't, Nancy would hold her down to do it.

"There. Should help, huh?" she said as she set it on the side table.

"We came back as soon as we got the call from the hospital, took a red eye," Jeremy said. "Vegas will still be there next year. You're more important than that, and you know it."

Liana's eyes darted around the room. No one else was there, and she looked back at her foster parents. "How long was I asleep?"

"All night, and most of today, it's mid-afternoon, honey," Nancy answered. "After what you went through, you need another day of it to be sure."