Chapter 45 - It Hurts!

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“Samaya…what’s wrong?” I’m moving toward her.

She winces, lips pinching. Her eyes close. Then, they open, and it’s like the light in them has been turned off.

Her lips part and whisper the words, “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

And then she just drops to the floor.

“Samaya!” I run to her, falling to my knees beside her. I pull her into my arms.

She feels limp.

Fuck! No!

Eddie is here in seconds, and he’s in doctor mode.

“Samaya, honey.” He lifts open one of her eyes by gently pushing her lid up with his thumb, and he shines a light in it. A little torch he got from his pocket. “Samaya? Can you hear me, honey?”

She doesn’t respond.

Her eye…it looks…blank.

No.

My heart stops.

Leaning over her, Eddie presses his cheek against her chest.

Cam falls to his knees beside me. “I called an ambulance. One is on its way.”

“Is…she…” I stare at Eddie as he lifts his head, the words stuck in my throat.

“She’s breathing,” he says.

“Thank God,” Cam says.

All I can do is exhale as my heart starts back up.

Eddie picks up her wrist and starts checking her pulse.

My mouth is dry. “Ed…what’s wrong with her?” My voice sounds small.

Eddie’s stare meets mine. “I don’t know yet.” He looks back at Samaya and puts his hand to her face. “Samaya, honey, open your eyes for me.”

Nothing.

“Come on, Samaya. Wake up, honey. You’re scaring the shit out of Reed, and you know what a giant wuss he is.” Eddie pats her cheek. “Come on, Samaya. Wake up, and I promise, I’ll buy the next round of drinks. Anything you want.”

But she’s not waking up. She’s not responding at all.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” My voice is panicked.

I’m scared. I’ve never been so afraid in all my life.

And helpless, so very fucking helpless.

“I don’t know.” Eddie slowly shakes his head.

“You don’t know?” I yell. “You’re a fucking doctor! You’re supposed to know! You’re supposed to help her!”

Knocking his hand from her face, I cup her cheek and turn her face to mine. “Come on, Sam. Please open your eyes for me, baby. Please.”

I’ll beg, do whatever is necessary to get her to look at me again.

Please, Sam, please wake up.

I need you to be okay.

But she’s not responding, and I have never felt fear like this before in my life.

Unadulterated fear.

“Has she been ill at all recently?” Eddie asks me.

“No—well, yes. I mean, she gets these headaches from time to time.”

“What kind of headaches?”

“I don’t know! Headaches!” My fear is coming out as anger, and it’s directed at Eddie.

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