What the Heart Takes
Once she made it back to Layne’s chest, she hovered over the gash. She remained in this stance for what seemed like forever. Her lips moved together like she was talking under her breath, but no sound escaped.
Repeating the process again, she slowed her movements, hesitating at Layne’s forehead, throat, chest, and stomach before moving back to his chest. Positive sparks of energy radiated from her soul. She didn’t say a word, but Heaven knew she was urging her son to open his eyes.
Time ticked on as everyone stood about the room, all eyes on mother and son. Heaven focused on the vibes in the air. Most were just as positive as Layla’s, including Dylan’s. Yet seeds of doubt began to spring.
“It’s not working,” Layla confessed. She flipped her hands over, staring at her palms, and then her husband. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
The words kinked Heaven’s heart. “What do you mean it’s not working?”
“He’s not responding to the cleansing, or the healing,” Layla answered, returning her hands to Layne’s chest. “The wound should have begun coagulating by now. Regeneration normally follows, but his body isn’t doing either.”
“Do you need me to step in?”
Dane’s voice sounded as grim as the expression on his face. Pain waked in his energy, a sure sign that whatever he was referring to couldn’t be good. Still, Heaven had to know what that something was.
“What exactly do you mean, Mr. Perry?”
“It’s Dane,” he interjected, pinning her with his gaze. “Please, call me Dane, sweet girl. You should be on a first-name basis with the man who is about to deliver you bad news.”
Heaven bit back the bitter taste in her mouth as she set the candle on the nightstand. She forced herself to swallow, hoping to remove the dryness constricting her throat. “What bad news?”
“You see, my wife has a gift that everyone welcomes. She heals the sick and injured. In most cases, she is successful.” He lingered near the foot of the bed beside her father. “When she isn’t successful, I’m there to help out. I’m a soul guide. If you’ve heard of mediums, what I do is similar, but I do more than talk to spirits. I guide them to the next world.”
The beat of her heart echoed in her ears. She stared at Layne’s father, praying he didn’t mean what she thought he did. “What do you mean, the next world?”
“I help them cross over to the white light that awaits us all.”
Heaven had just enough time to process his words when she noticed him coming toward Layne. Ice filled her veins as she jumped from the bed, trying to block his view of his son.
“No!” she shouted. “Don’t you dare take a step closer. Just…just back up now. Back up and leave. You’re not needed here.”
Regret loomed in Dane’s eyes, as much as his energy. It coincided with the ache she sensed in his heart. Layne was his son. The last thing he wanted was to help him cross over, but it didn’t stop him from continuing forward. “I’m sorry, Heaven, but I can’t leave.”
As he brushed by her, a sense of helplessness tore at her. She couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he planned to do, but she wouldn’t let this go without a fight.
“He’s not going with you. You hear me?”
Dane gazed over his shoulder, meeting her eyes with icy blue ones. A twinge of hope fluttered through him as he told her, “I pray that you’re right.”
* * *
The rain that once beat atop the roof had disappeared with the arrival of evening. Heaven stared out the window, watching the remaining clouds flit across the sky. The sun gave them an orange, yet pinkish hue that stood out against the blue sky. If legends were true, the following day promised to be better, at least weather-wise. Unless Layne opened his eyes, she wouldn’t care either way.
Clicking reverberated through the room from the bedroom door. Her eyes darted to Dylan, noting that he released the door handle. He’d shut the door now that his mother and Layla had left the room. They were the last to remain after the healing ritual. Her parents had disappeared once Dane confirmed that he didn’t see Layne’s soul in the spirit plane. He didn’t see it hovering above his body either, which is what it would do if he were about to die. It didn’t mean Layne was out of danger, but it did mean he was holding on.
A rush of energy zipped around her as the sound of Dylan’s footsteps vanished. The heat of his breath caressed the nape of her neck a second later. Each time he exhaled, tiny hairs tickled her skin, making it prickle.
She fought the urge to press her back to his chest and reach with her lips for a kiss. She could almost taste the cinnamon sweetness of his mouth, the way it always stimulated her tongue with a burning sensation. The spicy scent of cloves filled her nose as she took a breath to steady her heart, and her anxiety.
“Are you still angry with me?” His voice sounded normal for the most part, yet she picked up on the sadness it contained. Guilt flickered in his big brown eyes when she turned to face him.
“I’m a lot of things right now. Scared to death is one of them.”
He nodded instead of speaking, trailing his eyes down to her stomach and then further to the floor. “Tell me what to do. How can I help you, Heaven? How can I make you feel safe?”
“You can’t.” She blinked back the moisture stinging her eyes, afraid to say anything else in case her voice faltered. Dylan didn’t press her. His eyes looked to mimic hers. The light from the lamp caught the moisture inside them, making them glisten.
He started to turn away but stopped when she reached for him. The scruff of unshaven hair brushed her palm as she cupped his cheek, urging him to face her again. But instead of looking, he stepped forward, pulling her body to his. He buried his face against her neck, releasing a shaky breath. The heat of his embrace chased the chill from her arms.
It felt like a two-ton weight had been removed from her chest. She snuggled closer to him, turning slightly to the side so that her belly wouldn’t get in the way. Doing so gave him the space he needed to place his hand atop it.
“Heaven?”
She couldn’t look at him. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to keep from crying. She needed him, needed this moment. He’d been her rock since they found each other, and it was times like this when she needed him to do nothing more than support her.
Unable to resist the pulse of his energy, she raised her head, ready to look him in the eye, but when she faced him, he pressed his lips to hers. Slow, sweet caresses teased her mouth, causing her to lean in closer.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
“Don’t say anything else.” She worked her mouth over his until he did the same. They could discuss this at another time. Right now, she wanted to forget.
And he made her forget with each roll of his tongue.
It wasn’t until she whimpered against his lips that he finally pulled away. He gave her two more pecks and then rested his forehead to hers.
“I’m sorry I ruined the surprise for you.”
So was she, but it didn’t matter anymore. What was done was done, and she refused to waste another minute thinking about it today. “Guess this means I need to start buying pink.”
“When the moment comes for her arrival, it will still be special. Yeah, we know it’s a girl, but we don’t know what she’ll look like. My bets are on you. She’s going to look like her momma.”
Heaven snorted at the suggestion. “More times than not, girls favor their fathers. I have a feeling our daughter will look like her daddy.”
He didn’t hide the smile on his lips, nor could she hide the one forming on hers. It was the first moment they’d had in days that wasn’t filled with tension or pain. She wished they could stay in the moment forever, but a round of knocking brought their eyes to the door.
“Come in,” she said, leaning her head against his chest.
The door crept open, revealing a sight she didn’t expect to see for a few more days. “Hey there,” Hope announced.
&nb
sp; “Oh my God.” The tears that threatened to spill moments ago finally broke free of Heaven’s lids. A warm stream made its way down her cheeks as she and Dylan walked over to the door. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”
“Likewise,” Hope said, motioning for Heaven to come closer. When she did, Hope unwrapped an arm from the coat hanging in front of her and reached around Heaven’s neck.
They squeezed each other, rocking slowly before pulling away. When Heaven backed up, Hope’s coat caught on her shirt buttons. The coat slid out of her sister’s arms and fell to the floor, popping one of the buttons loose. She didn’t care about the button when she couldn’t stop staring at her sister. The image would be forever burned in her mind, partially out of shock, partially out of delight.
“Surprise,” Hope chuckled, rubbing the round bump that wasn’t quite the size of Heaven’s. Regardless of its size, it was more than noticeable.
“I was not expecting this,” Heaven giggled. “How far along are you?”
“Twenty-four weeks. We brought back more than a marriage certificate from Jamaica.” Both chuckled at the thought before the smile on Hope’s lips grew. “You know what this means, don’t you? Our kids will be two and half months apart after they’re born.” Her eyes twinkled at the thought, but sadness soon filled them. “It’s a shame to think our niece or nephew would have been the same age. Our kids would have grown up together, like you, Faith, and me.”
Heaven stole a glance at Dylan, who scratched his head and looked away. She knew he didn’t want to be a part of the impending conversation. Wimp.
“It’s funny you should mention our sister’s pregnancy, Hope.”
“Why is that?”
“Because,” Heaven answered, amazed at the fact that she was about to say these words with a smile on her face. “Our sister never had an abortion.”
CHAPTER 23
The windowpane felt like a sheet of ice as Heaven pressed her forehead against it. She was sick of looking at scenery. It hadn’t changed much in the last two weeks. The ground remained frozen every morning, a typical March day in central Ohio.
Spring did little to change nature’s appearance until mid April, which wouldn’t arrive for a few more weeks. Then leaves would start sprouting on the trees. The grass would darken to a rich green. It would nurture the beautiful flowers whose petals would finally open.
Cotton teased her palms as she pressed them to her belly, caressing the swell of it. Leaves and flowers weren’t the only impending arrival. By the beginning of May, her daughter would be here, cradled in her arms.
She couldn’t deny the way the word increased the beat of her heart, yet it pained it just as much. It would have been a wonderful surprise to hear it for the first time after bringing the baby into the world.
Even though she knew Dylan regretted telling her, she hadn’t completely forgiven him. It didn’t stop him from being there, if not by her side, somewhere within the bedroom. He wouldn’t have had any time with her otherwise.
Avoiding him hadn’t been her intention. In fact, she missed him. Missed feeling his arms around her every night. Missed the way he caressed her belly or the way he kissed it each night before going to sleep. She would have liked a moment alone with him in this room, but it never failed that someone tagged along whenever he came to check on her.
Leaving Layne wasn’t an option when she didn’t know if he’d relapse. Granted, he hadn’t experienced any other difficulties since the morning of his injury. Then again, she hadn’t left the room, either. Thankfully, this room had its own bathroom, especially since the baby had found her bladder to be a perfect cushion.
Focusing on the group of men huddled together below, her eyes remained on Dylan. He was standing like a statue a few yards from the porch. Just to his left stood her father, his arms crossed over his chest. His mouth moved with words she could neither hear nor read on his lips. Spencer and Dane were with them, standing in similar positions. Puffs of steam kept reappearing near their lips and noses each time they released a breath. All had creases between their brows, a sure sign that whatever the conversation may be, it was intense and unpleasant.
Maybe they were discussing Nate. The fact that they hadn’t heard from him since the attack was more than odd. It had them all on edge, waiting, wondering. With Layne out of commission, her husband would want to take matters into his own hands. Who better to team up with than the group who knew his father better than he did?
Though she knew she could tap into their energy to gain any answer she wanted, she didn’t bother. After sitting with Layne day in and day out, she didn’t have the strength to do much of anything. What little she did have she spent on him, willing him to wake. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t. His wound had begun healing a day after his mother and father arrived. It completed its regeneration process a week ago.
Yet there he lay, no movements, no sound, just a firm body that held no heated energy.
Moving away from the window, she stared at the carpet as she walked toward the door. The sound of her mother’s voice, as well as the other women, echoed upstairs and down the hall.
She reached for the door, ready to close out the noise when she noticed someone in her peripheral vision. Half expecting to see Hope, she was surprised to find Faith instead. Jade eyes peered into the room to the bed where Layne lay. She took a step closer, hugging the side of the archway opposite Heaven.
“Is he still alive?”
“Of course he is. Did you come to gloat?”
Faith glowered in her direction, but Heaven didn’t care. She didn’t have the time or patience to deal with her sister’s drama. Her sister would be waiting awhile if she wanted to drain her of happiness.
“I’m not gloating,” Faith grumbled, raking her eyes over Heaven. “In fact, I came by to tell you… I thought that maybe if I confessed what I… Oh, forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
She started to leave, but when she reached the middle of the hallway, she stopped. “I’m far from perfect, Heaven. I realize that. What happened between Layne and me is our business. It didn’t work, but I wouldn’t wish him dead. I hope he recovers.”
It was the kindest thing Faith had said in months. Heaven reminded herself of that, but it left her with another thought. If Faith was being nice, there was probably a good reason—a cosmic reason. Hell was about to unleash on earth.
The thought had her moving for the bed. She walked around to the side opposite the door, crawling back into the spot she’d occupied since her father and Dylan brought Layne to the room. She hugged his arm to her chest, resting her head beside his.
Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, taking her time to expel it from her lungs. She focused on the lethargic pulse of Layne’s energy, willing hers to intertwine with it. What little she had left she’d gladly give to him. She’d do anything to make him better, to make him open his eyes and stare at her with the fire they always contained, the fire she evoked in him. Anything less would mean one thing for sure.
When all hell did break loose, she would be smack-dab in the center, facing it without her Keeper.
* * *
Popping and crackling filled the room not far from where Heaven lay. It sounded like a roaring fire, the way the flames fed on the wood, as well as the air. At least she thought it was wood. The random bursts and snaps, the smoky-scented air, she couldn’t think of anything else that would produce the same effects. It had to be a fire burning.
Yet the sonic vibrations changed. The crackling faded, and the smoky scent, like it never existed. It left her unsure that she’d heard or smelled anything at all. Something had to have woken her. She’d been in a deep sleep.
Her lashes fluttered below her eyes, the will to open them nonexistent. Another sound soon replaced the silence, a whisper soft sound that reminded her of a fan. Yet she wouldn’t be running a fan in the middle of March. She did good to stay warm as it was. Without the heat of her Keeper…
She struggle
d to focus on the object in front of her. It didn’t look like burning wood or a fan, but possibly a face. Each time she blinked her eyes, the fogginess within them cleared a little more, fogginess that had developed while she slept. She didn’t remember being tired or anything else short of lying in the bed beside Layne.
Another blink removed the remaining film from her eyes so that she could make out the object in front of her. Only it wasn’t an object. It was pouting lips and light brown eyes that melted her soul. Layne lay on his side, his face less than a foot from hers, eyes open and roaming her face. When he realized she’d awaken, he held her gaze, a slow smile stretching across his lips.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“Hey,” she mimicked the sound, enjoying the way his soul began to blaze.
He couldn’t stop staring at her. His eyes darted from hers, to her lips, her cheeks, even her nose. Nothing but amazement shone within them. “You’re here.”
She wasn’t sure if it was a question or if he was trying to convince himself that she was real, but she enjoyed the way his energy gained strength. It made her face flush. “Yes, I’m here, and you’re awake. You came back to me.”
The smile kinking the corner of his mouth faltered, causing it to gape open. His eyes unfocused then blinked rapidly. When enough time had passed, he refocused on her, leaning his face in closer. His breath beat against her cheek, the rhythm matched the one in his heart.
“I never left,” he whispered, raising his hand to her face. He cupped around the curve of her jaw then guided her closer until the heat of his lips radiated to hers. “I’ll never leave you, Heaven. Never.”
Time seemed to slow as they stared at each other. All the passion and fear of their last moment together ticked away like a bomb on its last three seconds. When she finally lowered her eyes, she found the courage to ask, “Do you promise?”