Clay's Hope

Twenty-One

It wasn't just the next night, but every night, that Gabby folded back the covers to invite me in next to her. And, each day I went to work, with no signs of challengers waiting. I lived in a state of bliss.

Daydreaming of sleeping next to Gabby, yet again, I barely heard the shop phone ring or Dale's answering, "Hello, Dale's Auto Body." Last night, she'd been so cold she'd practically slept on top me the entire time. If I concentrated, I could still smell her on me.

"Clay! It's for you."

I straightened away from the hood of the car I was working on and frowned. No one knew to call me here. Still, I went to the phone.

"Hello?"

There was an indrawn breath, then a moment of silence. The wait wasn't long.

"Clay, I did it again," Gabby said, her voice sounding strained. "I'm at the diner where we had breakfast. I need you to come get me before it gets worse."

Damn it. I hung up the phone.

"Dale, I need a ride. It's Gabby."

"Okay. Let's go."

I jogged out the door, and he hurried to catch up. Who had she managed to find at the diner? I'd been so sure she would go after Rachel.

"Where to? Should we call an ambulance?"

"The diner on Main. No. She's just sick, again," I said as he pulled out of the lot.

He just shook his head and kept driving. When we pulled into the parking lot, I had the door open before he even stopped.

"Come back when you can. Take care of her."

I nodded and leapt out.

Through the window, I spotted her. She looked pale. Her bottom lip trembled when she caught sight of me. I pulled open the door and strode to the booth where she sat.

"Hi," she whispered, tilting her head to look at me. The pain in her gaze worried me.

She handed over her keys then started to slide out of the booth. I helped her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close. Fine tremors wracked her body as she shuffled alongside of me. I wanted to be frustrated with her—why did she need to keep hurting herself like this—but concern outweighed frustration as I maneuvered us out the door and to her car.

Once I had her in the car and buckled up, she shut her eyes. Her breathing hitched several times as I drove home, and she didn't move when I picked her up and carried her inside. I knew she was awake, though; so after I tucked her into bed, I got her a glass of water. She drained it, then lay back with a tooth-chattering sigh.

I stripped to my shorts and slid in with her. This wasn't the kind of snuggling I'd had in mind. I hated this. Hated the worrying. She didn't understand her abilities and neither did I. What if she had a finite number of zaps in her? What would happen if she used them up? Would she burn herself out? Would she not wake up?

I held her, and I worried. At some point during the night, I pulled her close so that her head rested on my chest. Then, I just listened to her breathe.

Close to dawn, she moved. She lifted her head, and I felt her look at me. Keeping my eyes closed and my breathing steady, I silently waited. She was thinking about something.

She carefully pulled away from me, and I felt the mattress move as she got out of bed. I opened my eyes to watch her leave the room. That she was up and walking meant she was through the worst of it. I heaved a relieved sigh and got up to turn on the light for her so she wouldn't trip getting back into bed. Sitting against the headboard, I listened to her wash her hands and then leave the bathroom.