Vampire Bride

Chapter Twenty Eight: Part One

Charlie

As if a bolt of lightning comes down from the sky, I'm jolted awake. Instantly, I observe my surroundings. My heartbeat relaxes just a little as I realize I'm lying in Maxwell's bed. Nonetheless, memories of last night flood my senses. I rip off the blanket and begin slapping parts of my body that should have deep gashes Henry inflicted on me. Except, my once bleeding body is healed and there's no ounce of blood or even scars to prove the events even happened.

"Maxwell," I yell.

He comes walking in, not running...walking. "Charlie, I can explain," he says slowly.

"What the hell did you do, Maxwell?" My voice is uneven from fear. I know the answer, but I don't want to know the answer.

"What I had to. I wasn't going to let you die."

My heart feels heavy in my chest, my lungs burn with dread, and my mouth immediately goes dry. "I should've died. You should've let me die. It's unnatural...people don't get second chances in life for a reason."

"Charlie, would you listen to what you're saying? People don't get second chances, but you do and you should be grateful."

"Grateful? I should be grateful for your selfishness." I get out of bed and stalk up to him. I have so much anger, so much regret. I don't know how I feel. All I know is that I'm not ready to be a vampire.

He puts his hands on my shoulders and leads me back to bed. He even pushes me onto the mattress and covers me up. "I know you didn't want this, but I couldn't let you die at Henry's hand. You deserve better than that and I'm sorry if I believe I can give you better. You just need to rest and come to terms with this. It'll take a while. I know it took me a while to get used to it."

"Where's Henry?" I want to get past the fact that his once best friend tried to kill me...scratch that, he did kill me.

"Dead." Is all he says.

My hand covers my chest to feel the dull thump as it beats against my ribcage from nervousness. "Why do I still have a heartbeat?"

"It takes a while for the transition to be completed."

"How long?" I say in a stern voice.

"Long enough," he says, skirting around the answer to my question, holding my hand in his.

I yank my hand out of his grasp. My voice rises with anger at his words. "Maxwell, don't make me more irritated than I already am. You can count on me knocking you on your ass as soon as I have the strength. Now, how long."

"Three...maybe four days," he reluctantly admits.

"I need to go to work," I say as I whip the blankets back off me. It's the only thing I can think of to make me feel the slightest bit better. Plus, in three, four days I won't necessarily have my work to fall back on anymore.

"No can do—" Maxwell starts to say, placing the blankets back over me.

I cut him off mid-sentence with clenched fists. "What do you mean no can do? Can't I go out into the sun for these last few days of my normal life?"

"You're just as human as before you were stabbed in the chest, but you nearly died. I already—"

"Nearly died? I did die...I'm going to die," I interrupt him again.

He huffs at my lack of respect in not allowing him to finish what he's trying to tell me, but I can't help it. With one deep breath inhaled and slowly exhaled, he continues talking. "I already took the liberty to call Morgan, telling her you won't be coming in today. You might feel fine, but you need more rest." With that said, he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.