He pointed again, and this time I followed it, looking down at the strange bandage stretched across the center of my chest.
“Nathem!” I mouthed, fatigue rattling through my bones. “Just tell me where he is.”
His eyes cracked, and his hand jerked toward my heart.
“Ms. Gavros. You’re awake.”
A woman in a white coat entered the room, scanning the monitors before sitting at the end of my bed.
“Can you tell me where my husband is?” I asked, hating the way her face paled at the question. “His name is Thayor Gavros. I am not remembering things well, but I think he was shot, and we should have been brought here together. I don’t know. I can’t…”
“Mrs. Gavros,” she said slowly, drawing in a calm, measured breath. “I am about to tell you something very difficult, and I need you to pay attention, or this will not make sense.”
I didn’t like the way she was talking to me. Thay wouldn’t let her speak to me like this.
“Okay.”
“Four days ago, you and your husband suffered fatal wounds in what we believe was an Underworld shootout. When the paramedics found you, you were both unconscious in the middle of the street.”
I blinked. Flashes of Wolfe, Jessie, and Blade moving between the lines. I blinked again.
“During transport, your husband had several moments of lucidity and overheard both his diagnosis and yours. Your heart sustained irreparable damage from a gunshot wound to your back. In his moment of clarity, he asked that when he finally drifted under, we would not resuscitate him. Instead, your husband requested…”
She took a breath, her eyes moving between Nathem and me before resting her hands over mine.
“That we give you his heart and save your life.”
I pulled my fingers out from under hers and shook my head.
“No,” I laughed. “Nathem, where is Thay?” I reached for his arm, moving around the black pain building in my chest. “Tell them I saved him. Tell them I got him out. Tell them.”
Nathem’s eyes cracked, tears falling into his days-old beard, but he remained silent as the gallows.
“Fucking tell them.”
“Mrs. Gavros,” the doctor cut in.
“I want my husband! Do you hear me? Go get him!”
“We cannot,” she said, reaching for me again, but I swatted her hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me. I don’t know you.” She pulled back. “Nathem, please. Please. Fucking please.”
“Mrs. Gavros, Thayor is dead. His heart is in your chest.”
“Stop it.” I shook my head, turning away from her words. “No, it isn’t. He wouldn’t do this to me. Thay wouldn’t leave me here. He wouldn’t die.”
“It is the truth, and we need you to calm down. His heart is working very hard right now to keep you alive.”
“You shut the fuck up.” I pointed at her, nearly knocking her off the bed. “Take it out and put it back. I want Thayor. I want him. Do you hear me? I want him. Bring him back. Take it back.”
“I am going to need some help in here,” the doctor said into the speaker clipped to her jacket.
“Listen, I got him out of the window and into the street. I saved him,” my voice broke. “Please. Nathem? Come on. Tell the doctor that I saved him.”
I turned to my friend, desperate for someone to listen, hating the way he just sat there crying.
“Come on. Those goddamn ropes don’t get to win.”