Never Forget (Memories #1)(47)
Author: Emma Hart

She gasps and I find the part of her screaming for attention immediately. I draw slow, lazy circles with the tip of my tongue then flick gently. Long strokes along her tender flesh have her bucking her hips and I put my hands there to stop her. Her muscles tense and I focus all my attention on the little bundle of nerves until she screams out my name.

I pull my jeans and boxers to my knees, hook her legs over my hips and move towards her.

”I need you, now." Lexy nibbles my earlobe and I thrust my hips forward once, moving into her in one long, swift movement. Her muscles are still contracting from her orgasm and I clench my teeth.

She squeaks out a sound as I begin to move hard and fast. She meets me thrust for thrust, gripping my back, her nails digging in.

Our skin is slick from the rain still falling and she tilts her head back. I graze my teeth along the skin of her neck and groan. She moves her hips up, opening her legs slightly and I’m done.

She cries out at the same time I stop, ecstasy running through our bodies.

I grin lazily at her flushed face and parted lips. I kiss the corner of her mouth and she smiles sleepily.

"Alec?" Her brown eyes open and hold me prisoner in her gaze.

"What, Princess?"

"Thank you," she whispers.

"What for?" I smooth some hair off her forehead.

"For being you. Just that." She smiles and I know she’s thanking me for not giving up on her.

Like I’d ever give up on the girl who never gave up on me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

ALEXIS

The sounds of sirens wake me and I rub my eyes to clear them of sleep. I can hear shouts and frantic movements downstairs, and I jump out of bed and run downstairs.

I’m greeted by mum crying, dad comforting her and Bing pacing. Paramedics are bent over someone on the floor.. Slowly, it clicks in my mind.

"Grammy?" I cry, propelling myself down the last few stairs. "Gram!!"

Bing grabs me to stop me going past him and folds me into him.

"What’s going on? What’s wrong?" I look at everyone and the paramedic turns to me.

"It looks like your grandmother has suffered a heart attack, but with her medical history it’s to be expected."

Heart attack? Medical history?

"Just tell me she’ll be okay," I beg as my eyes brim with tears.

His eyes reflect the sympathy he feels inside. "I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that. We’ll know more when we get to the hospital, but rest assured we’re doing everything we can for your Gram."

I look down and the tears spill from my eyes. Gram has to be okay, she’s Gram.

She’s always okay.

I look back up as they carry her out on a stretcher. Breathing apparatus is attached to her face and she’s pale, deathly pale. My heart clenches and I want nothing more than to hug her and promise it’ll be okay.

I don’t even realise I’ve moved towards her until Bing pulls me back.

"Mum’s going in the ambulance. Dad’s gonna follow behind with us,” he says softly. I nod. It’s all I can do.

"Lexy, go and put some clothes on, baby. We’ll leave in five minutes." Dad kisses my head and Bing takes me upstairs.

I throw on some shorts and a top. I don’t bother with make-up, and I barely run the brush through my hair. My phone stays sitting on the side – all the things I pride myself on are suddenly irrelevant to me.

All that matters is Grammy.

Five minutes later we leave the house.

"Where are they taking her?" I ask, staring numbly out the window.

"North Devon District Hospital," Dad answers. "The nearest one is too small to deal with a heart attack."

I nod again.

Heart attack.

The words swirl in my brain endlessly, ridden with pain and uncertainty. The image of her as the paramedics wheeled her out is forefront in my mind and I feel tears spill from my eyes again.

We’re silent for the rest of the drive into Barnstaple, to the hospital. Each of us are consumed in our own thoughts and worry hangs over us like a looming storm, heavy and unrelenting.

"She’s in A&E right now," the woman at the hospital desk tells us. "It’s the next building over. If you guys go on over and let them know you’re waiting they’ll let you know when all the tests have been done. Your wife will be over there now, Mr. Edwards."

Dad nods his thanks and we step back outside, following the path to Accident and Emergency.

The automatic doors open and I’m hit by the smell of disinfectant riddled with illness and blood. I put my hand to my face and Bing tucks me into his side. Hospitals are a horrible place. The last clear memory I have of one – of this exact one – is the day my Grandpa died. To my nine year old mind hospitals represented death, and that’s something I’ve held on to for the last nine years.

I drift through the room, taking a seat on the hard plastic chair across from Mum. She’s white, her clasped hands are shaking and her eyes are rimmed with red. Like me, she has no make up on and her hair is pulled up in a messy bun. I guess today is a day of firsts for both of us.

It’s still early so there’s barely anyone here. The local news plays silently on the television in the corner, but I’m oblivious to the written headlines scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

I remember the paramedic’s words. Medical history. I don’t even know Gram’s medical history, apart from her hip replacement. She’s healthy, isn’t she?

"Dad?" I ask. He looks at me with red eyes. "What did the paramedic mean when he said, ‘with her medical history it’s to be expected’?"

Dad sighs and his face softens even more. Wrinkles in the corners of his eyes I’d never noticed before are suddenly clear to me. Have I been so wrapped up in my own life I couldn’t even see my own father getting older?

"Your Gram has a history of heart disease. She was diagnosed two years ago, and it’s always been controlled with medication. Until now."

The world stops as my mind processes this revelation.

Heart disease?

"Does that mean she’s gonna die?" My bottom lip trembles as I attempt to hold it together.

"Oh, baby, no," Mum says comfortingly and moves to the seat next to me. She wraps her arms around me and rocks me the way she used to when I was child. "Not at all, it just means her heart needed a little break. It’s so full of love it had to go for a lie down."

I know she’s lying. I even know she’s explaining it to me the way you would a child, but I don’t care.

Right now, I don’t feel like I’m eighteen, an adult. I feel the way I did when Grandpa had his stroke. I remember sitting in this very room, swinging my legs under me and asking what was going on.

The room closes in on me as the memories flood back, and I start to cry again.