Chapter 28:
Will awoke; stomach throbbing and oddly tight; to see a small, blood-soaked body huddled in the chair beside his bed.
It was Amber. But it wasn't her, in a sense. Her eyes stared into nothingness, empty shells gazing bleakly into somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't see.
Then she'd stiffened, the hand that rested beside him on the bed balled into a tight fist. He could read the tension in her jaw, in her shoulders, in the way she held herself.
Something was wrong. It frightened him to see her like that.
Awkwardly, he tried to shuffle into a sitting position, but a stabbing pain tore through his abdomen, forcing him back down. Clumsily, he twisted over slowly, trying not to disturb the closed wound on his stomach.
His movements did not rouse the still figure.
Stiffly, he reached out a hand, laying it on top of hers. She didn't move or even respond.
He'd tried to say her name, but it came out as more of a whisper. He tried again, louder.
The vibrations tore at his dry throat, but seemed to have some effect on her. The muscles relaxed slightly, but now she was shaking uncontrollably, skin milk white and trembling.
He curled his fingers around her hand, feeling a crimson dampness; where her nails had cut into her palms; trickle over his fingers.
Slowly, the shaking had subsided, bit by bit, and she seemed to come to awareness, eyes wide and dilated.
Her eyes grazed his, and she seemed to be about to say something when the nurse had burst in.
Cold fear had gripped his heart. Guy had once been his enemy. Now he cared for him as if he were a friend. If they survived this, Guy would be able to start again, and Will was willing to bridge all their differences and be friends.
It had taken his old enemy a lot of courage to swallow his pride and apologise. He knew Guy cared deeply for Marian, and letting her go would have hurt him desperately, but he had done it, and had been angrily rebuffed, a poor reward for his efforts.
Although he knew Marian had every right to be angry, there was a small part of him that was irritated by her intolerance and incapability to forgive.
Now everything he and Guy had worked for would be wasted.
He had waited as Amber was led from the room, expecting her to come back devastated and broken. But she hadn't. She hadn't returned at all.
He didn't know whether this was good or bad.
Instead, he allowed sleep to overpower him again, and slipped back into the delicious oblivion.
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Amber woke up in a warm chair beside her brother's bed, head resting on the bed beside him, the starched sheets pressed against her cheek.
Sleepily, she raised her head, wondering how long she'd been asleep. Stiffness seized her limbs, the dried blood tightening the skin so that when she shifted to move, cracks swept through the layer of blood daubed crudely over her, like old water paints smeared over her flesh by an amateur artist.
Her gaze fell on Guy and everything that had happened came rushing back to her. The blood must have taken. He was alive.
His skin was no longer that awful ashen grey, blood drained and faded. He was pale, but not dangerously so.
She could see the bullet wound, now incision; tightly stitched up, the clear thread protruding through the hospital gown. It was smaller than it had been, no longer the deep, gaping gash; the skin forced together, the rib wired to stop it cracking further.
The sunlight filtered through the blind, illuminating his face in a burst of warm light that seemed to soak into him like water. Her fingers brushed her brothers, but he didn't move; didn't stir. His breathing was steady; the machine mechanically measuring heartbeat pulsed regularly, in rhythm.
She sat there for what seemed like an age, enjoying the warm sunshine on her skin, the comforting solidity of her brother's hand, the reassuring buzz and murmur of the machines behind her that told her he was still alive.
After a while, her conscience pricked a little, telling her that she was neglecting Will, as no-one else knew he was here, and she'd left him on his own.
He'd probably want her to phone Saffi.
Relinquishing her hold on her brother's hand, she staggered to her feet, tiptoeing out of the door.
"I'll be back." She whispered.
