Maya Banks - Sweet Surrender

“So the dead has awakened,” Micah said from where he was slouched on the sofa.

“You should have damn well woke me up hours ago,” Gray snarled.

Micah lifted a brow. “You needed the sleep, and Faith wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Except I need to see her,” Gray bit out. “I have a lot of explaining to do.”

Micah shrugged. “As soon as you get your shoes on, we’ll go.”

Gray sat down and yanked his shoes on. Then he shoved himself upright again and looked expectantly at Micah.

“Okay, okay, man, I’m coming,” Micah said as he got up from the couch. “You ought to have someone look at that shoulder while we’re at the hospital. Make sure your arm isn’t going to rot off or something.”

Gray glared at him. “I’m taking the antibiotics. It’ll be fine.”

They walked out of the apartment and climbed into Micah’s truck.

“Have you heard from Pop this morning?” Gray asked as they drove off. “Do you know how she’s doing?”

“Nope. Nothing yet. She’s probably still sleeping.”

Gray sighed impatiently. Not seeing her, touching her, holding her was driving him nuts. He should have been there with her. Soothed her hurts. Comforted her when she was scared. It tore his damn guts out that some cop had found her out on the streets, scared half out of her mind and running for her life.

“Quit beating yourself up over there,” Micah murmured. “It won’t change anything.”

Gray pressed his lips together and didn’t say anything.

Twenty minutes later, Micah pulled into the hospital parking lot.

“I’ll drop you off out front, and I’ll go park. I’ll meet you in Faith’s room.”

Gray nodded, and when Micah pulled up at the patient loading and unloading point, he pried himself out of the truck, trying to keep the pain at a minimum. He hadn’t taken any painkillers this morning because he wanted to talk to Faith with a clear head.

The automatic doors swooshed open, and Gray walked inside. He stopped short when he saw Faith across the lobby getting out of a wheelchair pushed by a nurse.

Connor stepped to her side, wrapped an arm around her and tucked her against him as they started forward. Gray’s heart raced. Fuck. She was being discharged, and he’d never even been to see her. He’d left her alone the entire goddamn night.

He hurried forward as fast as he was able without taking a nosedive. When he was a few feet away, Faith looked up and saw him. He stopped short when he saw the flood of pain fill her eyes. His chest nearly caved in.

“Faith,” he began.

Her lips trembled and tears filled her beautiful eyes.

He closed the distance between them and reached for her hand. He flinched when she pulled it away and cupped it with her other one.

“Baby, are you okay? God, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I just woke up.”

“It’s okay,” she said in a faltering voice. “Pop and Connor stayed with me.” She looked away, but he saw a tear trail down her cheek.

“Faith, baby, look at me,” he said. But she refused and closed her eyes.

“This isn’t a good time,” Connor said evenly. “She’s had enough for today. She needs to get home and rest.”

He started forward, but Gray couldn’t let it go like this.

“Faith, I love you. That’s all that damn well matters. Nothing else.”

She turned her gaze on him, and all the breath was sucked right out of his chest at the raw pain he saw there. She opened her mouth but closed it just as rapidly. He could see her retreat, fold in on herself. Her shoulders sagged, and he could see the utter fatigue draped over her like a mantle.

Connor’s arm tightened around her as though he feared she might crumble. But it was Gray who was crumbling. Connor pressed his lips together and ushered Faith past him. Gray turned and watched her walk slowly out of the hospital entrance where Pop had pulled his SUV around.

Micah strode up then, and he stopped in front of Faith. He bent down and kissed her cheek. “How are you, baby doll?”

Gray didn’t hear her answer, but he saw Micah’s reaction. Worry narrowed his eyes, and he reached out to touch her face.

“You go on home and get some rest. Let Pop and Connor take care of you for a while.”

When Connor helped Faith into Pop’s SUV, Micah approached Gray, a look of sympathy on his face.

“I fucked up,” Gray said in a low voice. “I should have told her the truth. If I had, none of this would have happened. She’d be in my arms, in my bed, safe.”

Micah shook his head. “You can’t think like that, man. Give it a day or two. Let her come down from all the emotional turmoil.”

“I can’t let her go,” Gray said simply. “Not when I’ve finally found her.”

Faith accepted Damon’s hand as he helped her out of the car. She closed her eyes and allowed the ocean breeze to wash soothingly over her face. The sun beat down on her, warming her skin, but she still felt cold on the inside.

“I don’t like leaving you here alone, Faith,” Damon said, worry evident in his voice.

She sighed. Pop and Connor hadn’t been thrilled with her wanting to leave so soon after her hospital stay either, but she desperately needed some time away from everything. She had to think. Collect her thoughts. Do something other than lie around while Pop and Connor fussed over her.

“I’ll be fine, Damon. You’re so sweet to do this for me.”

He inserted the key into the front door lock then opened the door. “You know all you have to do is ask. If it’s in my power, you can be sure I’ll do it.”

He walked in ahead of her and dropped her suitcase in the foyer. The beach house he owned was wrapped in police tape and would be cordoned off for the investigation for months to come. When Faith had called, in need of a getaway, he’d rented a similar beach house close to Galveston.

Part of her felt bad for taking advantage of his generosity, knowing full well she couldn’t return his interest. But he’d offered her his friendship, and friendship was something she was currently in bad need of.

“I’ve hired someone to come look in on you twice a day,” Damon said. He held up his hand when she would have protested. “Your meals will be delivered. I don’t want you to overexert yourself. You need to rest and recover. If there is anything you need, anything at all, pick up the phone and call me.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I just want you to smile again.”

She complied and gave him the best one she could muster. “I just need a few days to regroup. Sort some things out in my head. Pop told me everything that happened, but it’s hard to process. I just wish everyone hadn’t been so determined to keep me in the dark.”

He cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb in a soothing motion over her skin. “You can’t blame them for wanting to protect you, Faith. I would have done the same.”

She went into his arms and hugged him tight. “I wish…”

“Yeah, I know,” he said as he pulled away. He smiled down at her and nudged her nose with his knuckle. “I’ll get on out of here and leave you alone. Call me if you need anything.”

She nodded and watched as he left through the front door.

When she was alone, she found the couch and sank gratefully down onto the cushions. What she really wanted to do was pop a painkiller and zone out for about twelve hours. But that was cowardly, and it solved nothing.

A regular nap sounded damn good though. Not bothering to move from the couch, she curled into the soft cushions and closed her eyes.

A tear slid down her cheek, and she squeezed her eyes tighter shut.

Of everything that had happened, the part she was having the most trouble reconciling was her feelings for Gray. She loved him. Or what she thought was him. But how could she be sure?

The idea that she’d fallen in love with a fantasy filled her with despair. She’d never felt so alone in her entire life. She couldn’t run from the situation forever. She knew that. But she needed time, needed to be less emotional when she eventually faced Gray and the truth of what was between them.

Gray swore as he caught yet another traffic light on Seawall Boulevard. His free hand curled tightly around the steering wheel as he waited impatiently for it to turn green again. His other hand rested on his lap. He’d torn the heavy bandages off his shoulder, freeing his arm, despite medical warnings not to. It was still tender as hell, and he kept a smaller bandage over the stitches, but enough was enough. He couldn’t go around one-armed.

After spending a frustrating couple of days trying to see Faith, he was ready to put his fist through a wall. And then, when he’d gone back to Pop’s with no intention of taking no for an answer, he’d been told that she was gone.

In the hours that ensued, he’d felt like peeling his skin off and turning himself inside out. The absolute helplessness he felt not being able to talk to her, to see for himself how she was—it was about to send him right over the edge. Not that he needed much at the moment.

When he’d discovered where she’d gone and how she’d gotten there, his hopes had plummeted. He knew damn well that Damon Roche was interested in Faith, and that if she gave him the slightest bit of encouragement, he’d be all over her.

The sun was sinking over the horizon when he pulled into the driveway of the beach house. He got out and walked as quickly as he could up the stairs to the front door. He debated for a moment about whether to knock, but he shrugged off the urge. It was door-die time. The worst she could do was tell him to fuck off.