Run To Me (Lazarus Rising #4)(53)

Her body felt strange. Hollow.

Empty?

He shook her. “Willow? Willow, look at me!”

He was all that she could see. There was terror on his face—and his face was crumbling. Tears were in his eyes, and he was shouting, swearing that she’d live.

“I’ll make you live, baby! This isn’t the end for you. I swear it!”

But she was dying, and he was breaking apart before her. She wanted to hug him, to tell him that everything was going to be all right, but it wasn’t.

She wasn’t.





Chapter Fourteen


“Willow!”

Jay’s sharp voice had her snapping back to the present. To him. His arms were around her, and he’d yanked her away from the bed. Elizabeth had lunged toward Wyman, and she was shouting orders to others who’d entered the room—a man and a woman, both wearing green scrubs.

“Willow, are you okay?” Jay asked her.

No, she wasn’t okay. Because Wyman’s worst fear—it was her death. And everything about that scene had rung true to her. People couldn’t fake their worst fears when she touched them. Wyman’s nightmare was her death.

He’d cared about her. He’d cried for her. And he’d sworn to do anything to keep her living.

Willow swallowed the lump in her throat. He had done anything. He’d brought her back from the dead.

“We have to stop the bleeding!” Elizabeth barked. “He needs to get back into surgery. Dr. Brannon, he needs help, right away!”

They started to wheel the bed out of the room. Willow surged away from Jay and grabbed Wyman’s hand. His head turned. His gaze seemed so weak, but he tried to smile at her. “B-brought y-you back…”

“Wyman…”

“D-didn’t know…about all s-side effects…n-not then…just m-memory loss.”

“This man needs to be in the OR!” The guy in green scrubs snapped. “Now!”

“Learned…others…t-too late…that’s why I-I kept you in l-lab…trying to h-help…p-protect…”

She squeezed his hand. Made herself step back. There was so much blood.

“H-he’s c-coming…” Wyman whispered. “S-sorry…”

And then he was gone. He’d been wheeled out of the room, and she was just standing there, her hands twisting in front of her. The image of her own death was still in her head.

“Are you okay?” Sawyer’s voice. Sawyer had moved to a position in front of her. “You went absolutely white when you were touching him. You started shuddering, and I thought you were having a seizure. You didn’t stop, not until Jay pulled you away from Wyman.”

She glanced at Jay. He was watching her with an unreadable stare. Forcing herself to breathe, nice and slow, Willow tried to gather her thoughts. “Did you think he was lying?” Sawyer’s senses were so sharp, surely he would have picked up any tell-tale sign of deception from Wyman.

Sawyer shook his head. “No. I think he was telling the truth.”

Jay swore.

“So do I,” Willow confessed. “I saw what he feared, and it was me. Me, dying.”

Jay swore, low and viciously.

“I died,” Willow continued. “I was stabbed.” Her hands slid over her stomach, as if searching for the wounds that should be there. “I was in some motel room, near the ocean. I’d been stabbed over and over, and left to die.”

Jay surged toward her. “You aren’t dead.”

“Not anymore. Because Wyman brought me back. He couldn’t let go.” Her stare slid toward the door of the hospital room. He’d been taken back to surgery. But even as he’d been led away, he’d been warning her about danger. “If I wasn’t the monster he made…” Another slow, deep breath. “Then who is?”

“My money is on the bastard who killed you.” Jay gave a grim nod. “And I’m going to find him.”

A shiver slid over her, and for just a moment, she could hear a man’s voice in her head. You belong to me.

Her lover. Had her lover killed her? Was he the monster Wyman feared so much?

“I’m going to check with Elizabeth. See what the hell is happening.” Sawyer rubbed a hand over his jaw. “The bastard tore himself open.”

Because he’d wanted Willow to believe him.

She didn’t speak again, not until Sawyer was gone. The machines were silent. The room suddenly seemed incredibly cold, but she could feel Jay’s gaze on her. Watching. Waiting.

“I believe him, Jay. I believe what I saw. Fears can’t lie.” People could lie. Words could lie. Fear didn’t. Fear was basic and primitive. Fear was people at their weakest. “Wyman was afraid for me. He didn’t want me to die.”

“So he put you in Lazarus. He kept you locked away in a lab and called that shit love.”

She flinched. “I think that he did love me, in his way.”

“And the bastard out there? The one Wyman called a monster?”

Bits and pieces were in her mind. Not the full picture. Just the whisper of fear. Fear doesn’t lie. “I…I was hiding from him. He found me.”

“Yeah, but was the bastard your enemy? Or Wyman’s? Were you collateral damage in one of his wars? He made a monster, and the guy came gunning for the one person connected to Wyman on a personal level—is that what happened?”