Less than Perfect

27. Awake {part two}

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Awake

Part Two

JULES—HE WAS NEAR. Skye could feel his strong, comforting presence like a warm blanket of safety draped over her entire body—and soul. Coming back to consciousness, she grappled onto the faint sounds around her: her own calm, steady breathing, along with the measured beating of her heart, and soft, quiet whispers coming from familiar voices. She couldn't make out who the voices belonged to, but—from the overwhelming warmth that spread through her body—she could only guess that one was Jules's.

She tried to say something—anything—but what came out of her mouth was nothing more than a weak, straggled whimper. Her throat was dry, and her entire body felt wrapped in a veil of exhaustion, only ever so slowly reviving itself.

"Skye?" she heard Leah gasp. "Are you awake, baby girl?"

Skye shifted in the hospital's bed slightly, in a weak attempt at sitting up, as she carefully peeled her eyes open. Bright light blinded her heavy eyes for a moment, and she pulled her shaking hand up to block out the brightness from her sight. In an attempt at finding her voice, she croaked, in a small whisper, "Yes. I'm a-awake."

In an instant, Leah was by her side, pulling her small, fragile hand in hers. She was teary eyed, sniffling ever so often, and her face was scrunched up with concern. "Oh baby," she breathed, clasping Skye's hand tightly in both of hers, "we've been so worried about you. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

Skye's head was spinning, trying to grapple with a clear thought, so disorganized, so confused it was as if she'd woken up on a strange, foreign island, and she couldn't place what had happened to bring her there. She tried to remember what had happened and why she was in the hospital, but part of her subconscious was blocking the information. "W-What happened?"

Leah's eyes crystallized with tears, and she muffled a sob with her hand. "J-Johnny took you, baby. He lured you to our cabin in the woods by holding Rachel captive until you showed up." She squeezed her daughter's hand. "You're here because we found you in the woods in terrible shape. He hurt you very badly, Skye. He almost took your life. Don't you remember anything?"

And in an instant, all at once, everything—all of the haunting memories and images—returned to her, bombarding her soul and tearing her apart again. She squeezed her eyes shut, bitter sobs shaking her body, and fought against the horrifying flashes of all the agony she'd gone through. She remembered Johnny, and all of the sick scheming he'd used to lure her in his clutches; she remembered Rachel, and how battered she'd looked when Skye had last seen her; she remembered the cabin, and the brutal pain she'd felt as Johnny had used her body for his own sick pleasure; and then she remember Jules, and how—just moments before she'd passed out—she'd thought he was going to die, all because of her.

Her eyes snapped open again, searching the room for Jules's familiar face. She'd felt his presence, and she could have sworn she'd heard his voice, so that meant he had to be in the room with her now, alive.

When her eyes finally landed on what she was looking for, her entire body relaxed. Jules, he's alive, she told herself, flooded with relief. He miraculously survived. Despite all of the overwhelming misery that clung to her conscience still as she continued to remember all the horrible trauma and suffering she'd had to go through, she felt better knowing that Jules was okay. He was alive. And she hadn't lost him.