Listed: Volume VI by Noelle Adams

Fourteen
     
    Paul jerked awake with
a painful throb in his lower back.
    He’d
fallen asleep in the chair beside Emily’s bed, and his eyes cut immediately
over to where she lay. She was pale, damp, and tossing restlessly, and Amy was
bending over the bed and trying to wipe her face with a cool cloth.
    Emily
had been too sick for the last three days to fly back to Philadelphia, so they
were still in the hotel suite in Hawaii. She’d had a fever now for over
seventy-two hours, and Paul couldn’t quell a heavy weight in his gut that
seemed to signal they were nearing the end.
    Her
fever wasn’t getting better this time because it wasn’t going to get better. Ever .
    He
had to force down the insistent toll of warning in his mind. If he thought
about it, he wouldn’t be able to function at all.
    And
Emily needed him.
    “She’s
not any better?” he asked, his voice cracking with fatigue and emotion.
    Amy
shook her head. “She still seems to be getting worse.” The woman sounded
strained, which was disturbing in someone as no-nonsense as the nurse. “I’m
going to draw her another bath.”
    Paul
forced himself to his feet, although his sore back and his neck both resisted
the motion. He took Amy’s place wiping Emily’s hot face as the nurse went into
the bathroom to turn on the water in the tub.
    Emily
squirmed in evident agony, throwing off the sheet that had been covering her.
She was dead white, and perspiration streamed off her skin. “Paul,” she gasped,
arching up as her eyes flew open.
    “I’m
here, baby,” Paul murmured. He tried to sound comforting, but his voice cracked
again. He felt groggy and heavy and like he couldn’t think clearly. He hadn’t
slept more than a half-hour at a time in three days, not willing to leave his
wife for so long.
    She
didn’t appear to hear him. Her eyes stared blindly up at the ceiling. “Paul,
don’t! Please, no!”
    Paul
couldn’t tell what she was seeing, what she was imagining in her delirium, but
it must have been a nightmare scenario. He only hoped he wasn’t the one hurting
her in her fevered dreams.
    She
kept mumbling and occasionally crying for him to stop. To stop doing something .
    “It’s
okay, baby,” he murmured, reaching toward her with the washcloth again. “It’s
okay.”
    It
wasn’t okay, but there wasn’t anything else he could say.
    She
jerked away from his touch, her blue eyes still wide and wild. Before he could
pull back his hand, her arm flung up toward him, her fingers tightened in a
fist.
    It
connected hard with his cheekbone, just under his right eye. He grunted at the
sudden impact and pain.
    “Are
you all right?” Amy asked, emerging from the bathroom and hurrying back over to
the bed.
    Paul
blinked dazedly through a shock of pain. His eye watered reflexively. “I’m
fine. She’s delirious again.”
    Emily
was writhing frantically now, her legs and arms flailing with aimless motion, and
she kept crying for Paul to stop.
    Amy
had pulled out the thermometer and was trying to hold it against Emily’s
forehead, but her head was tossing too wildly against the pillow. “Can you try
to hold her still?”
    Paul
reached back down to the bed, his face still throbbing from where Emily had
punched him, and he grabbed her shoulders tightly enough for Amy to take her
temperature.
    When
Amy pulled back the thermometer, her face changed. “Oh God,” she muttered,
staring down at the digital numbers of the tiny display.
    Paul
swallowed hard, a wave of cold panic overwhelming him. Amy had never been
anything except calm and professional, but she looked scared now at how high
Emily’s temperature had spiked. Paul couldn’t bring himself to ask how high it
was.
    “We
need to get her into the bath,” Amy said, putting down the thermometer and
looking calm again.
    Together,
they managed to take off Emily’s clothes, and then Paul fought through her
struggling until he was able to gather her up in his arms. She landed one