Page 62 of Second Go-Round
“Shh,” I said as Jarod clicked out the SOS again, the tap, tap, tapping more like a gong going off between my ears. Wincing only made my nose hurt even worse.
“Favorite color?” he asked, his breath fanning my cheek.
I started to fade into oblivion, lured by the lessened pain of unconsciousness.
A sharp jab in my side jolted me back to awareness, and I blinked in the darkness.
“Favorite color,” Jarod repeated.
“Blue,” I answered, my eyelids fluttering closed once more. So fucking thirsty!
The damn noise again, an annoying, persistent jab in my brain.
“Favorite season?”
“Football,” I murmured my easy answer he already knew.
Jarod laughed. “Of course it is.”
I smiled which stung my nose like a bitch. “Nose hurts.”
“How’s your leg?” he asked before another SOS echoed in my ears.
I took stock of where my legs ought to be, where the pain had been rippling upward toward my core what seemed hours before. Couldn’t reach down to feel them though. Didn’t have the energy. Just wanted to sleep…
“Hey…”
“Hmm?”
“How’s your right leg?”
“Can’t really feel it,” I murmured, drifting toward the horizon of oblivion.
“Can you wiggle your toes on either side?” Jarod’s question once more tugged me back to reality.
I tried to do as he’d asked but couldn’t really tell if any of them moved or not. “Don’t know, Nurse Zimmerman.”
He chuckled and sent another SOS. “What’s the best advantage to being tall?” he asked, and I had to think…make sense of his question. Once I did, I answered the first thing that came to mind.
“I fit perfectly against you. Beneath you.” I sighed at the sweet memory of his skin against mine. All hot and hard. Strong. Safe. I tightened my hold on his hand.
Jarod cursed near my ear, keeping me with him. “The best thing you’ve ever done?”
“You.” There was no point in lying to him—or myself. Our time was running out, and I found myself regretting the choices I’d made to keep him at arm’s length. My eyes stung as the reality of where we were and what had happened settled down over me.
We’d been buried alive…in a small space. How long until our air got used up? What happened when rescuers began climbing atop the rubble and shifted the walls, and beams rained down atop us? O’Neill’s used to be a three-story building…and who knew how much separated us from ever seeing the light of day again.
“Number one complaint?” Jarod’s next question maneuvered my mind from a path sure to lead to panic and losing my shit.
I grasped at his hand, assuring myself he still lay beside me. Pebbles…something bit into my back, but I couldn’t even shift to make myself more comfortable. The hard floor beneath my head offered no softness, nor did the area beneath my shoulder blades.
So uncomfortable. Thirsty.
Tired.
“Number one complaint,” Jarod repeated, pulling my hazed brain back into focus.
“I shouldn’t have walked out on you,” I whispered, my voice reedy thin, sounding as broken as my body.
