Read Hansel 4 for Free Online Page B

that better? You had contacts, but…I got these for you.” She smiles a little soft smile.
    Behind her, Other Leah watches. I wonder if she’s bad or good. Something is going on, but I can’t tell what. I’m so tired, and I can’t remember anything. What day it is, or where we are.
    I look back down at my arms, and then at Leah. I try to touch her with my eyes, since I can’t with my hands. I feel so strange. Like I’m not really on the bed.
    She puts her hand on my leg. “I hope you’re not too mad at me. I didn’t know what to do, so I called Raymond. Do you remember anything from Denver? From the hospital?”
    “I don’t like hospitals,” I rasp.
    “I know you don’t.” Her mouth quirks sorrowfully. “You weren’t there for very long. They did surgery on your wrist. This one,” she says, reaching toward my left wrist. “Then we had you flown to Vegas.”
    “I’m in Vegas?” I swallow, despite the dryness in my throat.
    “Yeah. Lana is treating you.”
    Behind her, Lana raises her brows. Like Leah. Triplets. Aren’t we missing one?
    I want to touch Leah, but my hands are so sore.
    Leah’s still talking, but I can’t make out the words. She looks like she still loves me. She didn’t leave me. But she should.
    I reach for her, despite the pain in my hand. “Leah…”
    Her eyes meet mine, and they are filled with love. “What’s wrong?”
    My throat closes up, so I look down at my hands. I can’t believe I fucked them up so much. I can’t believe Leah saw me lose my shit like that.
    I try to move my hands to cover my face, but they hurt so much, I stop. Usually, I would do it anyway, but…
    This time I just don’t. Too tired.
    I turn my head away from her and try to keep myself in check. It doesn’t work. I feel a tear roll down my cheek, drip off my jaw. Fuck. I was always like that. When I was a little kid, I would cry sometimes when I was tired.
    I shut my eyes.
    Her hands are on my cheeks and head. They’re so soft and cool. “Lana said you’ve got a fever,” she says softly. “How are your hands? I know they must hurt. Especially this one.” She touches my left shoulder.
    She strokes my face. I should flex my fingers, because I deserve nothing but pain.
    “Are you tired? You want to go to sleep? Lana can give you something if you need it.”
    I peek my eyes open. “No.”
    “Okay.” She sits closer to me and strokes my hair.
    I know I should tell her. It would be smart to let her hate me.
    But I don’t.
    I let myself feel her hands on me. This is what I used to dream about. Leah, touching me. I used to wonder why I didn’t have more problems. Drugs or drinking. More than fucking. But it was always Leah holding me together.
    I want to tell her that. To thank her. But I feel sick. Lying to her. I’m a sick person. She doesn’t know what kind of person I am.
    My thoughts congeal, and in the next second, I can tell I’m going to be sick. I open my eyes. Grab a pillow, press it to my chest, and retch on the sterile, white fabric. Holding onto the pillow hurts my hands, which only makes me feel sicker.
                  “I don’t feel well. I want to stay with you, Shelly!”
                  “Not this time, Lukey.. I’m sorry…”
    “You’re getting more pain meds,” Leah’s sister says. “You need to sleep, okay?”
    I feel her move my IV line, and I lie still. What’s wrong with me? I don’t need medicine for pain. I just need pain. And yet, I don’t move as someone drags a towel over my neck and chest. A warm towel comes down over my face, and I feel the bite of moving air as some of the blankets piled on me are moved. My left hand shifts, and I grit my teeth.
    “Sorry.” Brisk hands touch my left side. “We’ll need to re-bandage this.”
    “I’m sorry…” Leah’s voice is near my ear. Her soft hand strokes my face.
    Her sister messes with my hand. I try not to pay attention, but it hurts like fire, making my head and face and