Toxic (Ruin, #2)(63)

The other reporters were silent as Mike and I talked.
I slapped him on the shoulder. “You.” I nodded as relief started tampering down the adrenaline that was surging through me. “You I’ll talk to.”
“Good.” His eyes crinkled. “Kimmy would have liked that.”
“Yeah.” I bit my lip to keep from crumbling. “She would have.”
“Go on in, son.” Mike nodded. “I’ll take care of the swarms out here.” He put a card in my hand and smiled. “When you’re ready, we’ll do it however you want. Your terms, Ashton. Don’t let them make you into something you’re not.”
I clenched the card like a lifeline as I stared at Mike’s name and contact info stamped on front. Then I shoved it into my jeans pocket.
Saylor was silent as security let us by. The Home looked the same, but the expressions on everyone else’s face? Different.
Martha walked up and sighed. “I’m sorry. Short of smashing in all the TVs and stealing everyone’s computers for the day, I couldn’t keep them from finding out.”
“Well…” I sighed. “Everything has an expiration date, right?”
“Right.” Martha’s eyes moved to Saylor standing next to me and then warmed. “Glad to see you back, young lady.”
“Gabe…” Wes was walking down the hall like he was marching to war. “She’s been asking about you — I don’t know if Martha said anything but, the infection it’s… it’s getting worse, man.”
Wordlessly, Saylor and I walked down the hall with Martha and Gabe. Princess was lying in her bed with an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.
Saylor’s breath hitched.
“Helps her breathe,” Wes explained. “But the coughing makes it difficult. I swear I didn’t sleep at all last night. Every time she coughed sounded like…” His voice trailed off as he spread his hands helplessly.
“The last.” I sighed.
“Yeah.” Wes rubbed his face with his hands. “Her body isn’t responding. It’s like she’s…”
“Princess?” I let go of Saylor’s hand and walked toward the bed. Her eyes flickered open.
She smiled and said my name fogging up the oxygen mask.
“You look like you’ve seen better days.” I smiled and sat on the bed.
She nodded.
“You feeling better?”
Nothing. No nod. Nothing. The light in her eyes died a bit, and then she started coughing out of control. I held the mask in place and helped her as best I could. By the time she was done coughing, a wheezing took the place of her breathing, making it sound like she was choking.
I turned around to see Saylor and Wes were gone.
Martha’s eyes were sad. “I think…” She placed her hand on her chest. “Gabe, I think it’s time to call hospice.”
“What?” I stood. “Do you think it’s that bad?”
“The infection is worse.” Martha sighed heavily. “I’ve seen healthy individuals die from this type of infection, not to mention she’s already in a weakened state. I just think it would be wise to call them. In the end, it’s your call. And hospice doesn’t necessarily mean the end. People come off hospice all the time.”
Then why did it feel like I was sentencing her to death?
“I need to think about it,” I answered honestly.
“I figured.” Martha smiled. “Just let me know once you decide.”
She left me alone with Princess.
Her form was so frail. Funny, I never really said Kimmy in my head anymore. To me she was simply Princess. Kimmy — the girl I had known — was gone. But she had left me with a gift in the form of a princess.
A princess sent from heaven.
I took her hand in mine, then kissed it. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Her eyes welled with tears.
“To me,” I whispered, my lips grazing her hand, “you will always be the most beautiful thing I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.”
A single tear spilled over and rolled down Princess’s face.
“You really are a princess, you know that? Like the ones from the stories I read you. So, I have one question, my little Princess. Will you let the prince rescue you? Can I take you on my horse to my castle? Can I fight for you, even when you won’t fight for yourself? Will you let me love you, even when you’re sick and broken? Will you let me keep the vow I made to you all those years ago?”
Her eyes fluttered shut.
“Gabe?” Wes’s voice sounded from the hallway. “More reporters just came. I know this is a lot to take in one day, but the sooner you break your silence, the better it will be. Trust me.”
“Right.” I swallowed the tears thickening around my throat and reached into my pocket. “Do me a favor?”
“Anything.” Wes walked into the room.
I handed him the card. “Call him and set up the interview. We can do it here at the Home. I just… I need to get it over with.”
Wes took the card. “Done.”
“Where’s Saylor?”
Wes’s eyes were sad as he answered. “She wanted to give you guys some privacy. Martha said coffee was the best way to start a morning, so yeah, she left. She’ll be back though.”
My eyes never left his. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Let her,” Wes commanded, his voice firm. “Let her be that person for you. She knows what she’s getting into, and she’s still here. That’s saying something.”