Chapter Twenty-Seven

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There was a faint beeping that punctuated my dreams that night, incessant and precise. Beep, beep, beep, beep. Every three seconds. I counted them in that murky state between consciousness and abyss, like audible sheep. My muddled mind thought it was my phone, or maybe the battery in our smoke detector was low. It wasn't until my eyes fluttered open, the blurry vision of a stucco tile ceiling making me panic for a moment as I tried to figure out where I was, why my body hurt so fucking bad.

"Hey sweet girl."

Oh, his voice. That was all I needed. That low baritone could ease me out of anything. He sounded like home.

"Pedge." I croaked, my voice sounding far more hoarse and weak than I thought it would.

"I'm right here, baby." He assured me with one warm hand on my cheek, guiding my head to swivel over to the left so I could see him. He smiled when I met his gaze, but my heart immediately dropped into my stomach as I took in the deep, purplish circles under his eyes, and the blood, oh god the blood. He was covered in it.

He saw my eyes widen, the heart monitor I was attached to beeping frantically as I tried to sit up.

"Hey, easy, I'm okay. It's not my blood, baby. It's not mine." His voice was low and pained as he placed his right hand on my chest, gently pushing me back down.

Oh... if it wasn't his then it was...

"Mine." I whispered the realization aloud.

He nodded, slowly, his eyebrows furled together, his lips downturned into a tight frown, like the movement hurt him.

The day prior came tumbling back to me in broken images-- me curled around the toilet, Pedro holding me on the bathroom floor, packing a bag, getting in the car on the way to the airport, the accident.

"Pedro, have you slept at all?" I asked, already knowing the answer, it was written clearly in the bags beneath his eyes.

"I'm fine, querida." He hummed, reaching up and gently squeezing my chin.

No, he wasn't, he was visibly exhausted, covered in blood, jaw taut and twitching like he'd been mulling over murderous thoughts for the past twelve hours.

"You're a terrible liar." I huffed.

"Baby girl, you were in an accident, I thought I was going to lose you, the last thing I'm worried about is how much sleep I'm getting." His voice was stern and clouded in thick despair. My heart clenched painfully in my chest in response.

"You didn't lose me, Pedge. You're not going to. I'm right here, I'm fine." I whispered, reaching over, and squeezing his hand, watching in agony as his pretty, brown eyes glossed over, tears welling in the corners as he scooted his chair closer to the side of my bed.

"I thought-- I just-- I didn't know. I've never been so fucking terrified in my life." He swallowed, hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in the thick confines of his neck as he gently placed my hand on his scruffy cheek, leaning into it, hot tears streaking down his face and wetting my palm. "I promise I'll never let anything happen to you again. Never again. I wanted to kill him; I swear to god I was going to kill him." His voice turned into a growl at the end, and I felt my stomach cramp up at the sound.

"Come here." I whispered, feeling my own throat start to constrict, thick, hot tears being beckoned forth by his pain. I tugged at his shoulder, but he shook his head, then let it drop onto the edge of the bed.

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