“Welcome back.”
The sound of his voice tickled along my skin and caused my smile to break free. I could feel my lips lifting. I had also regained control of my hands, even my legs as they sluggishly moved under the covers.
Life. I wasn’t a religious person, but there were times when certain signs and events made you acknowledge that you were but a speck of dust coasting in the wind. My being spared, meant that a divine hand had touched me, the same hand that once saved Arjen from eighty-seven trigger pulls. I was alive, and living proof that even the most devout sinner could be saved.
“Husband,” I choked out.
“Wife,” he whispered before his lips grazed my forehead.
A set of tubes running along my face and into my nose was feeding me oxygen. A quick look showed that I was surrounded by a host of machines. I could see the tubes and wires connected to various parts of me.
Arjen’s big smile had me grinning despite the trauma going on in my throat. He must have read the torture in my expression because he held a cup of water and straw up to my parched lips.
He showered me in delicate kisses and caresses, and I was grateful for each one. Although too weak to return his affections, it didn’t stop me from moving my anxious hands and making my rubbery arms flop against him. The joy in the sound of his laughter filled my heart and acted as an extra kick to the medicine easing into me through the intravenous drip.
“Thank you for coming back to me,” he choked out. His vulnerability was a beautiful addition to our relationship, the sight causing my heart to flutter and me to fall even further in love with him.
“Do you remember what happened to you?” he asked.
I nodded. “Your father shot me to spite you,” I murmured. He didn’t have to tell me that he had killed the old devil because I was sure the man didn’t have plans to leave our home alive. I’m sure he was down there in hell right now, giving the devil advice.
Flashes of the scene crept into my brain. The struggle, the pain, the heart-wrenching sense of knowing I was about to die was the scariest thing I had ever had to face.
Realizing that I would be leaving Arjen and that I’d never see him again, had caused my soul to ache. It took me hanging over the edge of death to realize that the love we shared wasn’t an exchange of words, but a connection, bound by something we may never fully understand. Fate had landed in my lap, and with this second chance I was given, I wasn’t going to waste a moment with Arjen.
He had my back like no one ever had. Arjen had help Marshawn take care of a group that came at the Blacks Saints when they assumed my absence meant I was dead. He had even gotten Tash a fully furnished apartment and despite her protest, he had booked her monthly sessions with a therapist.
The part that really left my mouth hanging open was that my men were actually listening to him, to the point where some had shared with him what I would do in certain situations. The men sharing with Arjen, the-what-would-Mecca-do principle, had led him to convince Brandon to start studying for his GED, General Educational Development, which was something I had planned to demand from him.
After discovering that I was recovering in Sylvia’s house, she had made herself scarce during the days following my awakening. Arjen informed that she had taken me out of the hospital because she didn’t trust anyone outside of who she knew taking care of my medical needs.
She usually came around right before I fell asleep. She would drop in for a few minutes of awkward conversation. She had asked me to forgive her for handing me over to Raymond, and I hadn’t given her a reply right away.
Once Arjen let me know that I had coded twice before they had gotten me to the hospital, and I’d lost so much blood I had to have a transfusion, I relaxed my anger towards her.
Silvia was the one that had ended up giving me her blood. It was ironic that I had gotten a transfusion the first time I was shot, from Raymond’s blood, and now Silvia’s. The mother and father I knew nothing about had saved me, not once, but twice.
Since I was given a second chance at something as important as life, I saw no reason why I couldn’t give her a second chance as well. I forgave her, but we had a long road of healing ahead of us.
Was I going to be able to find enough room in my heart to have a relationship with her?