Free Eight Days (Love Always #1.5) by D. Nichole King Page A

went to confront my dad. He’d given the order before I spoke to him.
    Holy shit.
     
    ~*~
     
    I never did fall asleep. Marcy got in a few hours, though. Right now, she’s in the cafeteria eating lunch like I should be, but I can’t leave Kate here after what her mother told me last night. Kate could wake up any minute, and I want to be here when she does.
    I want to stare into those beautiful brown eyes of hers and let her captivate me.
    I shift in my seat, and as I do, my phone digs into my ass. Leaning forward, I pull it out to check for messages. My brain has been so preoccupied with Kate over the last two days that Ellie’s situation slipped my mind. I’d told her to call me, but I haven’t heard my phone go off.
    I should check up on her.
    I tap my fingers on the phone. None of the choices I come up with sound like good options at the moment. I can’t run down and see if she’s here, not with Kate on the verge of waking up. Calling her in front of Kate seems like an asshole move, and I’m trying not to be an asshole. Besides, neither of these fall into the category of choosing Kate and letting Ellie go, which is what I need to do.
    Yet somehow, somehow , I have to fulfill my promise to Liam.
    I make the decision to shoot her a text.
     
    Hey. You doing okay?
     
    Short. Sweet. No bullshit.
    I lay my phone on the bed and wait for an answer. It never takes Ellie long to return a text.
    Twenty minutes later, when Marcy arrives with a sandwich for me, I’m still waiting. And I don’t know what to think about it. Ellie’s a big girl and can handle herself, but that’s not what Liam would let her do. Especially not when she’s hurting like she is.
    Fuck. Me.
    I glance at Kate, then at the monitor. I find myself doing that often. Yesterday, I asked the nurse what the numbers meant and what was considered normal, so now I have a frame of reference. They all look good.
    “Marcy, I’m going to go speak with my dad for a minute. I’ll be right back,” I lie.
    “We’ll be here,” she sings out. Even with so little sleep, Marcy is more chipper today. That’s what hope does to people.
    In the hallway, I head straight to the stairs instead of wasting time waiting for the elevators. I half jog to room 111, where Ellie’s dad is supposed to be. The door is wide open, and a second later, a janitor backs out with a mop bucket.
    “Hey,” I say, stopping him. “Is Mark Vander Zee here?”
    “Who?”
    “The man who was admitted to this room? Where is he?”
    “Uh, I don’t know. I guess he left. I just cleaned the room.”
    “Yeah, thanks,” I say as I turn away, digging my phone out of my pocket. Now that Kate’s not beside me, I dial Ellie’s number. After the fifth ring, her voicemail picks up.
    “God damn it,” I mutter.
    I make my way back to the oncology floor, telling myself I’ve done all I can. If Ellie won’t answer her phone, there’s nothing I can do. Not even Liam could force her to do that when she sunk into stubborn mode. Sure, he’d go after her, but Ellie doesn’t belong to me.
    I choose Kate. It was never even a choice; it was me being a pussy because Ellie and I have a history. I know I’ll have to tell Ellie eventually, but now doesn’t seem like the best time. That and she’s not answering her phone.
    Standing outside of Kate’s door, I smile to myself. Come hell or high water, I won’t lose this girl.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Day 8
     
     
    This morning, I wake up to a text from Ellie:
     
    I’m fine, Damia n .
     
    That’s it. And suddenly, I can breathe again. Not because she finally replied, but because last night, I didn’t chase her.
    No, last night, I did what I should have done a long time ago.
    I let her go.
    I’m not sure if that’s the reason I see Kate differently right now, or if it’s all the junk finally making its way out of her bloodstream that makes her seem brighter. She’s not as pale; her skin even looks like it’s taking on a healthy