by Toby Neal
He looked around the room.
Sophie wasn’t there.
Did that mean she hadn’t died? Or had she gone to some other waiting room in heaven or hell? There was no telling what exactly this place was.
Weirdly, he wasn’t all that curious about it.
It was what it was.
He made his play and won the pile of Necco wafers. He scooped them towards him, and hollered, “Kenny!” and tossed his boyhood friend one of the candies. Kenny took a big step forward and caught the wafer on his tongue, and they all cheered.
He tossed more of the Neccos to his Army buddies, and they tried to catch them in their mouths, but most of them missed. Even Grandma tried to catch one, and it landed right on her shelf of cleavage, and they all laughed more than Jake remembered laughing in years.
And then, just that suddenly, the rosy bubble around the parlor burst, and Jake was swimming somewhere deep underwater.
The pressure of the depths squeezed his lungs. He kicked and thrashed, trying to get to the surface, but the water was thick and viscous as oil. His lungs were burning, and the sense of weight was immense. It reminded him of those last horrible moments in the lava tube, but worse somehow—as if his lungs were already filled with fluid and heaving like a bellows, and yet doing nothing to alleviate his terrible need to breathe.
He flopped like a fish onto dry ground, and landed in a bed.
He could feel the sheets, the mattress, the blanket over his legs, the IV in his arm. But he couldn’t see, and when he tried to move, nothing happened. He was trapped deep inside his body. Smells of disinfectant and something fake floral assaulted his nose.
He heard the beeping of monitors, and voices.
Familiar voices.
Words sorted out of the sounds hitting his ears like individual pebbles.
His mother: “I don’t think he’s breathing.”
“Give him a minute.” An unfamiliar voice—a doctor? “We just took the tube out. The body has to get the message to do it on its own.”
“What’s that wavy line?” His sister Patty’s voice.
“That’s brain activity. He had us worried there, for a while, but he seems to be coming back online, as it were.”
“Oh, please, Jake. Breathe! Breathe!” His mom pleaded.
Yes, Jake shouted. Yes, dammit, I’m here, and I’m alive!
Nothing happened. No one heard him. Even his eyelids refused to obey.
The sense of an anvil sitting on his chest intensified. It hurt, so badly—and then his mouth opened, and he gasped. Air flowed into his damaged lungs as his breathing reflex finally kicked in.
And that hurt like hell, too. His throat felt raw, his lungs bubbled.
“He’s breathing!” Patty shrieked. He felt her arms go around him, felt her tears wetting the sheet covering him.
His mother pressed his hand against her cheek. “Jake, Jake—we love you.”
Where’s Sophie? He screamed. Sophie!
They didn’t hear him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sophie
“He’s alive!” Patty’s voice on the phone was a shriek of joy, blasting Sophie’s ear drum.
“I don’t understand,” Sophie said stiffly. She’d been so completely sure he was gone. She hadn’t been able to afford hope, not even a teaspoon of it.
“We came in to unplug him as scheduled. The doctor was all excited; he showed us the brain graph, told us that Jake’s brain waves had been fluctuating but increasing. We decided to take him off the ventilator, anyway, and he started breathing on his own! Now he’s showing signs of waking up!” Sophie heard excited voices in the background, a jumble of exclamations. “He’s coming around, Sophie! Get your butt over here. I don’t care what our mom says, nothing will bring him back from the dead like having you there!” She told Sophie the room number. “Hurry!”
Sophie lurched up from the bed so quickly that she tripped and fell to her knees on the carpet. “On my way.”
Sophie didn’t remember leaving the Hilton, getting in the rented Continental, driving to the hospital. She didn’t remember parking, walking through the lobby, getting on the elevator, getting off at Jake’s floor. She didn’t remember finding her way to his room, or even the sight of Janice Dunn’s angry face or Patty’s smiling one as she walked in and approached the bed.
She only registered Jake.
Her lover was propped up with an IV, and a couple of monitors hooked up to register his vitals. His eyes were shut, but he was breathing on his own, and his cheeks were flushed with color. The ugly bruising of his injuries had faded; the bandages on his wounds were smaller.
He looked like he’d sat down to watch TV and fallen asleep.
“What are you doing here?” Janice snarled.
“That’s enough, Mother. Jake wants Sophie here.” Patty grabbed Janice by the arm and towed her out of the room.
Sophie sighed with relief to have Jake to herself. She pulled the plastic chair Janice had been sitting on closer to the bed and picked up Jake’s hand, holding it in both of her own.
“Jake. My kun dii,” she whispered. “I love you. I’m here. Please come back to me.”
His hand twitched.
No other signs of consciousness.
She scanned the monitors—his heart rate was elevated, and the machine beeped rapidly. The brain activity graph was a tangled mass of intersecting, moving colored lines. His breathing had a wheeze and bubble to it, but his chest rose and fell regularly, a beautiful sight.
“Jake, I know you can hear me. I am by your side. I’m waiting for you for as long as it takes, and I won’t leave you if I can help it. But you need to wake up, so you can tell your mother that you want to see me.” Sophie kissed the abrasions on his knuckles. “Now I know where you get your temper. And stubbornness!”
Jake’s hand moved again. She glanced up. His mouth twitched too.
He was trying to wake up.
She’d give him some incentive. “I see that smile. You’re teasing me, Jake. Testing to see if I’ll still love you when you’re a comatose vegetable. Well, the answer is yes.” Sophie blew out a breath. “Furthermore, I want us to get married. I love you so much that I want to do that, even with the charming mother-in-law I’m going to get. So, if that ring your grandmother gave you isn’t spoken for yet—I’d like to wear it.”
His eyelids fluttered, and opened. His gray irises met her gaze squarely. “Sophie,” he croaked. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
She’d been wrong. She still had tears to shed for him. Lots of them.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sophie
Afternoon that Jake woke up
Sophie parked the Continental and went into the Hilton. She stopped at the desk, and asked for a single room—she planned to stay there until Jake was discharged from the hospital, and with her father gone back to Washington, there was no need for the suite. The clerk reassigned her, and she walked to the elevator to pack her things.
She had spent a glorious half hour alone with Jake, quietly sitting together, until Janice and Patty returned and it was Sophie’s cue to leave. Janice was crying with joy that Jake had woken, so Sophie decided to save the news of their engagement and let him share it with them. She slipped out, smiling at the sight of him holding his mother’s hand as he fell asleep.
Soon she was situated in a new room with a king bed and a balcony that overlooked Hilo Bay, a familiar view from when she and Jake had lived together in a nearby apartment. She made herself a cup of tea and stepped out onto the little balcony, sitting on a lounger to watch the afternoon wind ruffle the water of the Bay and the coconut palms do their hula dance.
There were a lot of people she should call to share the news about Jake: her father. Marcella. Connor. Lei. Alika and Armita. Even Raveaux. But it was all a little sudden and overwhelming to have the tables so completely turn, when she’d been braced for the worst.
She didn’t want to call anyone. She wanted to hug this delicio
us happiness close and savor it all by herself.
Jake had a way to go before he was fully restored to health; the attending physician had warned them that the full extent of any cognitive damage was still undetermined. It was better to wait and see how things unfolded, perhaps wait for him to tell his mother the news of their engagement. Certainly, Sophie didn’t want to be the one to do so!
Her phone, resting face down on the little glass table, buzzed in silent mode.
She picked it up and checked the screen: Pierre Raveaux. Maybe it was something to do with the case. The thought of speaking with him, telling him the news, felt good. He’d been so kind, so caring about Jake, and now she could tell him that they were engaged—she didn’t want Raveaux hoping for things that could never be.
“Hello, Pierre.”
“Sophie.” She could tell by the surprise in his voice he hadn’t thought she’d pick up. “Are you all right?”
“I’m better than all right. Jake woke up from the coma, and we’re engaged.” Sophie sounded giddy, even to her own ears. She wished she had his grandmother’s ring to look at to reassure herself that those magical moments at Jake’s bedside had really happened.
A pause.
Clearly, Raveaux needed time for the news to sink in. Sophie rushed to fill the void with words. “His brain activity had been coming and going on the monitors, but his wishes were clear in his health directive, so his mother and sister had the medical team unplug the life support as scheduled. The transplant team was standing by to harvest his organs. But he started breathing on his own, and then . . . he woke up!”
“How wonderful!” Raveaux’s voice was sincere. “You love each other and you have another chance at a life together.”
“We do. Love each other. And now we’re getting married.” She glanced down at her hand again, but the fourth finger was still bare. “He’s got a way to go to recover, so it will be a while before we have a wedding.”
“All in due time,” Raveaux said in his measured way. “Congratulations, in any case.”
Awkward pause. Why was this so hard? “You must have had a reason for calling?”
“Yes. I’m back on Oahu. I’ve met with Bix and debriefed about the case, and it occurred to me that I wanted to thank your father for his kindness to me while we were together at the hospital. Can I get his number from you?” Raveaux’s voice was perfectly calm and reasonable.
“Dad was especially kind to you?”
“He was.”
“And I was not.” Her cold behavior toward Raveaux came back to her in an embarrassing rush of images. She’d been so devastated about Jake, so guilty about her attraction to Raveaux, that she’d rejected his simplest gesture. “I’m sorry I was rude, Pierre.”
“I took no offense. You were stressed.”
“But still—it was ill-done of me. Of course, I’ll text you Dad’s private number.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Another awkward pause. There was so much they weren’t saying; so much that could never be said. “I hope you wish us well, Pierre.”
“I will always wish every good thing for you, Sophie, especially that you are loved as you deserve. Thank you for the information; I’ll see you at the office when you return.” Raveaux ended the call.
Sophie listened to the quiet hiss of the severed connection for a long moment, and then set the device aside. She leaned back against the lounger, and hugged her arms around herself as the breeze off the Bay turned cold.
She’d finally gone inside, taken a shower, and was perusing the room service menu. After she ate something, she’d go back to the hospital to sit with Jake.
She had to be next to him, even if he was sleeping. Hopefully he’d spoken with his mother by now . . .
Sophie picked up her phone and answered it when she saw Connor’s private number.
“Connor! I’m so glad you called. I have good news about Jake.”
“Tell me.”
“He came out of the coma. I don’t know how much permanent damage he may have sustained, but . . . he was conscious. And we are engaged!” Sophie reflexively looked down at her hand again. She really wished she had that ring!
“Wow!” Connor gave a rich chuckle. “But then, I’m getting used to seeing incredible things. Congratulations!” He cleared his throat. “What do you remember about the rescue?”
“I remember that it was you that got us out. Thank you, Connor. We would be dead right now if you hadn’t thought of that chip.”
“I’m learning to listen to my intuition more and more. In fact, that is how I make all of my decisions these days.” A pause. “What’s the current situation with Jake?”
Sophie looked around her and sighed. “I don’t know. But I was getting ready to go back to the hospital and visit him. I am desperately hoping he’s told his mother we’re engaged. She blames me for his injuries. It’s not fair, but I understand her feelings.”
“That must be painful.” She could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose as he switched gears. “I don’t expect you to take immediate action on this, but when you have some better idea of his prognosis, I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Please come to Thailand. To the Yām Khûmkạn compound.”
“No.” The answer burst out of Sophie forcefully. “I will never willingly visit that place.” Sophie had only seen the clandestine organization’s temple compound from above, in a helicopter. The series of interlocking buildings, terraces and courtyards built of ancient stone, lined with drilling ranks of ninjas and guarded by RPGs, was not appealing.
“Pim Wat is back. And she wants to see you.”
Angry heat flushed the back of Sophie’s neck. “I know that the Master rescued her from Guantánamo. But why would I ever want to see that woman again, after she stole my child?”
Pim Wat had taken tiny Momi from Sophie when she was only twelve hours old, setting in motion a series of events that had culminated in the beheading of six good men.
“She wants to reconcile. The Master wants that too. He’s invited you to come, and what he asks for, he gets.” Connor’s voice was resolute. “I serve him, and I have come to trust him. You don’t have to. But you can trust me. I’ll make sure you’re safe. You owe me this.”
“I owe you my life, but not this. I will not willingly see my mother. Ever again. The answer is no.” Sophie ended the call with a punch of her thumb.
Galvanized, she got up and changed.
She needed to see Jake. He was her priority now.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sophie
Jake was still sleeping when she arrived at his hospital room.
Her gaze flew straight to his face, turned toward the door on the white pillows. He was still pale, his visage swollen and marked by bruising, his tan a sickly yellow.
On the other side of the bed sat his mother, Janice.
Her face was as pale as her son’s, her hair a mess, and her eyes steely. “What are you doing here?”
Sophie advanced into the room. She still felt hot from her last confrontation; she was in no mood to be pushed around.
“Jake and I are engaged. I have a right to be here.”
Janice frowned. She stared pointedly at Sophie’s bare hand. “My son told me that you returned our family ring. More than two years ago.”
Sophie continued across the room to stand next to Jake. She picked up his hand, squeezing it hard. Return to me, Jake. I need you! “He woke up because I called him back.”
“What do you mean, Jake woke up? Now?” Jake’s sister Monica, a sleek blonde wearing designer clothing, came out of the small bathroom. “We knew he had been conscious, but he has not woken up since you left here earlier.”
Sophie abruptly sat down in the empty chair beside Jake’s bed. She pressed his big, limp hand between hers. His skin felt hot to the touch, and she placed her palm against his forehead. “He has a fever.”
“We know. He’s on a cockt
ail of antibiotics. Those wounds he sustained became infected,” Janice said. “Not that you have permission to know any of his medical information.”
“You’re not wanted here.” Monica advanced to stand beside her mother. “Get out of this room before we call security.”
“Where’s Patty?” Sophie looked around frantically. Jake’s favorite sister had always been her advocate, had even become a budding friend.
“Patty had to go back to California. Her kid was sick. But that’s not your concern, either,” Monica said, hands on her hips. “You need to leave.”
“No. I’m staying.” Sophie squeezed Jake’s hand between hers, pressed it against her cheek. She leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Jake, I know you’re not well, but I need you. Please wake up.”
Monica picked up the phone. “Hi. This is Jake Dunn’s sister, Monica Dunn. There’s a woman in our room who is not authorized to be here. She’s not family. We need security to come remove her.”
“Don’t do this. He needs me.” Sophie wrapped her arms around Jake’s upper body and laid her head on his chest. His heart thumped irregularly beneath her cheek. His chest rose and fell with rasping breaths. Heat rose from his body, and an invisible tremor shook him. She turned her head to look at the brain activity monitor, but it was turned off. “Why isn’t that monitor hooked up?”
“We fired that quack doctor who’s been overseeing his care. We are having a neurologist from New York flown in to evaluate him and oversee his case,” Monica said. “Though it’s none of your business.”
Sophie shut her eyes, drawing inward as she focused on the sound of Jake’s laboring heart. “Something is very wrong with him. You need to call the doctor now.”
Monica’s bright red lips drew into a thin line. “He’s going to be fine. But you need to get gone. You’re the reason he’s in this bed in the first place.”