Sun Poisoned (The Sunshine Series) (35 page)

“Then why does it hurt now?” I ask, my eyes darting between both of them, not sure who will give me an answer. “I was fine before.”

Evan looks like he’s about to take over, but Myles cuts him off.
“It might be pressing on a nerve. Walking could have aggravated it.”

I look to Evan now because, call me crazy, but I think Myles is leaving some details out.

A brief glance at Myles, who waves a hand at him, and Evan begins talking. “There is also another possibility.”

“
A
small
possibility,” Myles adds.

“
A possibility that the vampires that bit you were infected with Michael’s blood.”

My breath gets caught in my chest.

“If that’s true,” Evan continues, “when the fang broke off, they would have bled into you.”

“
So you’re saying that I might be infected too?”

Neither of them say
s anything. Myles tries to hold my hand and I move away.

My eyes widen and my pulse quickens, the pain in my shin going along with it and sending a shock through my leg.

“It’s probably nothing,” Myles says like it can comfort me. “We have to take it out so we can see.”

Evan excuses himself and leaves the room, probably hyper-aware of the tension, fear, and uneasiness of the entire situation.
I stare at the covered window, not taking my attention off of the blue the curtain. I know if I do, I might freak out.

“
Are you okay?” Myles asks.

“
Just trying to tell myself that this is my life right now,” I say quietly. “No big deal.”

He hesitates, but his hand lands on top of mine. I let it stay there this time. We don’t say anything else.

Evan steps back into the room after this short exchange, carrying a red bag with a white cross on it. Suddenly, things are that much more real. Things are moving too fast.

Myles
takes my pillows away until my head is flat against the mattress, then he removes the blankets from the rest of my body before sitting next to me.
Evan stands at the foot of the bed, opening the bag and taking out a pair of white rubber gloves that he shoves on.

It's so quiet.

Neither of them are talking and I can’t say anything.

I watch as Evan fills a vile with clear liquid and begins methodically sticking it into my leg in various areas.

“This will not completely numb it,” he says, “It is too deep.”

“
It runs too deep.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my head so when they’re open again, they’re on Myles. He’s staring at my face, making sure that I’m not in pain, I guess. I am. I am completely and totally in agony, but that doesn’t matter. Wha
t the hell am I going to do if I’m infected?

“
You okay?” Myles asks for about the thirtieth time. I'm half-tempted to not answer him, but I nod so he'll stop asking, if only for a few minutes.

Then the stinging of the needle starts to fade away, turning into more of a tingle. When I can no longer feel the burning, throbbing, or stabbing, I finally relax for a few seconds. I take in a few breaths without worrying if they'll turn into gasps or screams.

“He's going to take it out now,” Myles says, breaking me out of the calm. “Just try to stay still.”

I don’t want to watch Myles watching me or Evan ripping open my leg, so I turn my head to the ceiling, figuring it’s the best option.
The only sounds I hear are the rubber gloves on Evan’s hands squeaking once in a while and some kind of metal instrument like scissors snipping.

“
Do I have to be awake for this?” I blurt out.

“
Yes,” Evan answers when Myles offers no response.

I don’t feel anything until we’re a good fifteen minutes into it. Even then, it’s just small, sharp pains here and there. I can deal with that. Myles moves closer when he sees my expres
sion, but he doesn’t touch me.

He only has to do that when white-hot stabbing overtakes me, causing my body to bunch up and my limbs to flail. I try to move my head to make sure Evan isn’t actually cutting off my leg, but Myles has my face in a firm grip.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I scream in response.

“Myles,” Evan says through my shrieking. My uninjured leg kicks something over, causing a loud, metallic crash. I can feel one of Evan’s hands on top of my right knee and the other wrapped around my left ankle.

“
Please,” I whisper when my voice cuts out. “Please stop.”

I start to feel ti
ngling at the back of my head.

“
I thought I had to be awake.” My voice is barely there.

“
You do,” Myles whispers as I continue to thrash. “I’m making it so you can’t move.”

My pulse quickens as my movements slow. I try sitting up and I can’t. I can’t do anything but lie here.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m right here.”

Both of them let go of me, and Evan continues to rip apart my leg. I try to concentrate on breathing, staying awake, the plain, white ceiling, but the fire in my shin leaves no room for anything else
.

I’m almost grateful when my vision tunnels.

“Stay awake,” Myles’ voice echoes around me.

It’s like I’m on the edge of a cliff and he’s holding out his hand to me. It’s completely my choice whether or not I grasp on.

I decide that right now, it’s better to fall.

***

And I do fall. Right into a nightmare.

I’m back in that pink house, on the ground. I can only see once in a while, like my eyes won’t stay open. It takes me half a second to realize that the reason is because there’s blood in my eyes. There’s blood everywhere.

Michael is here too, laughing as something grabs onto my leg, clamping down as I scream. Something else latches onto my right arm.

“
Do you think he can save you this time?” Michael says. “Do you think it will be that easy?”

He’s saying something else, but it’s drowned out by the sounds of my own agony.

***

Dry. My mouth is so dry. My throat is so raw.

“Are you awake, sweetie?” I hear Phyllis ask.

I try to open my mouth to speak, but my voice doesn’t come out. My eyes open slowly. I have to reach up with my hand to rub the cloudiness away, and that movement seems to vibrate every aching bone in my body, all the way to my shin.

Someone’s covered me up to my shoulders with the brown blanket again, but a quick glance around tells me that Phyllis is the only one here. She’s sitting next to the bed with a paper cup in her hand. I slowly shift myself upwards as she stands, placing a pillow behind me and handing me the cup.

“
Here,” she says.

My shaking hands grasp around the paper cup like it’s made out of gelatin and I’m afraid it’ll slip out of my palms. I want to gulp it, but the first sip makes my throat burn, so I slow down. The window near the bed has gone dark. I must have been out a while.

“I thought you left.” I whisper.

Phyllis takes the empty cup from me.
“I was going to,” she says, “but then I heard you screaming.”

I try to sit up even more so I can uncover my leg, but I can’t.

“You’re alright now, Sophie,” Phyllis says, smoothing my hair. “Try and rest.”

I hear her flip flops smack against the linoleum as she heads toward the door. I don’t want to be left alone because then I’ll only have my thoughts; I don’t want to go to sleep because I’ll only be greeted by more nightmares or memories.

Good thing that at the same time Phyllis leaves, Myles is coming back in.

He wastes no time sitting down next to me.

Before he can say anything, I ask, “Am I okay?” My voice comes out raspy.

I think Myles is going to answer me when he stands, but he turns and starts walking toward the kitchen, holding up a finger when I open my mouth to ask him again. I hear water running and then shut off. He walks back to the bed and sits down again, handing me another paper cup.

“You’re dehydrated,” he states when I stare at the liquid rippling between my hands.

“
Well?” I whisper, not about to let the question I asked go unanswered. I take a sip of the cold water so I have something else to concentrate on.

“
We don’t know,” he says, and when he looks back at me, his eyes are watery. He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress again.

“
What do you mean?” I try to steady my voice, but it’s still weak.

The cup is empty again, and he takes it from me. When I glare at him when he makes a move to go back to the sink, he sets the cup on the nightstand, causing a soft, hollow sound.

“We have to see if your leg is healed,” he says. “If it’s not, then…” He can’t finish the sentence.

“
Then I’m infected?”

“
There's a good chance.” Myles is still staring at the empty cup next to me.

“
Okay,” I say, adjusting myself again. A wave of dizziness and nausea wash over me and then pass. I notice the IV sticking out of my arm has two tubes now: one red, one clear.
“I need a phone.”

Myles looks at me for a second, his expression concerned that I might actually try to stand. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I would. And I would leave. And I would call Jade. Then we could figure this out. Then everything would somehow be alright.

“Sophie, I already told you,” he tries to be as gentle as he can when he says it, reaching forward and grasping my hand. “I can’t let you call him. I’m sorry.”

I bend my good leg just to see if I can. I’ll work my way up to the other one. If I can limp, I can get past him and to a phone. There has to be one somewhere.

“Sophie.” Myles is more cautious now. “Just relax.”

He tries to touch me, but I shrug him off.
“How can you tell me that?”

His hands hover mid air, and then drop back to his sides.

“I know I’ve been a real crappy girlfriend,” I say, vaguely aware that I’m about to begin rambling. “I know you’re mad at me or hurt or whatever, but I need to talk to my brother. He needs to know that I’m okay or not okay and I think I’m freaking out.”

With that, the water works start. Damn it.

My head is against my one bent knee now, my eyes tightly shut so I don’t have to look at anything. In between sobs, I slowly bring up my other leg, my shin throbbing in time with the beating of my pulse as I suck up snot.

Myles moves closer, but it’s a few minutes before he touches me at all. He places one hand on my back as I heave breaths in and out of my sore throat.

“I’m not angry,” he whispers when there’s a small lull in my freak out. “I know you’re scared and I’m sorry.”

This only causes me to cry harder. He lets me. We don’t say anything until I have no tears left.
Instead of turning and hugging him, I straighten my posture to curl onto my side so I face away from him, bundling the blankets around me. My leg starts throbbing harder in the new position
.

I figure he’ll leave me alone to sleep when I hear his footsteps trail back into the kitchen, but the faucet starts
running again, and he sets the cup back on the nightstand before sitting in the chair next to me.

After an immeasurable amount of time with me staring blankly at the wall near his arm and him
staring back at me, he speaks. “Remember when I told you about me?”

I swallow, my throat aching more with tears I can’t produce.
“Yeah,” I say. My voice is quiet, weak; it seeps out of me like smoke.

“
I thought I made a huge mistake,” he says. “I thought you’d never want to see me again.”

I sit silently, wondering what the point of this is. Not just the conversation, but all of it. The lies, the apartment, the club, the bites, Michael trying to kill me and then leaving me alive.

“What would you have done,” Myles says after a few minutes, “if I had still told you everything I told you and then I added to that the fact that someone you loved was hurt because of me?”

“
I don’t care,” I say, sounding more like a whiney child than I intended to. I turn onto my back again, feeling shaky and tired and wanting my brother more than anything.

“
I’d hate you,” I say, staring at the ceiling.

“
I know,” Myles says.”But I wouldn’t care about that. What would you
do
?”

“
I don’t know.”

“
If it were Jade?” he asks.

I shut my eyes for a long time before turning my head to look at him.
“I’d do anything to save him.”