Shotgun pulled the hospital chair right up to the bedside without letting me go for a second. “He’s actually okay?”
“Actually…” he answered simply, his eyes falling to the bed for a second, “… I’m fucking done with this, Ave.”
Dread struck me in the chest, the weight of his words making it feel like someone had sat on me, making it hard to breathe, hard to focus.
This is where he leaves.
This is where he walks away like everyone else.
Maybe I could ask him why.
No one else really told me why.
Maybe if I knew, I could do something different next time.
“I’m fucking done trying to explain to people what we are. So, here it fucking is,” he announced, and I held my breath, waiting for that final blow, the final strike. “As far as I’m fucking concerned, you’re my old lady. And you have been for a long damn time. You wanna run. You wanna protest about shit? Go ahead. Fucking do it. If I have to prove to you that I’m not those people in your past, the ones who didn’t see how fucking beautiful and amazing you are, I will. If I have to chase you across the planet and show you just how far I’ll go to keep you in my life, and in Gage’s life, then I will.”
“That’s insane,” I whispered, not able to keep myself from smiling, though. He wasn’t looking up at me.
His eyes were focused on the bed like he’d rehearsed what he was going to say, and he was trying to remember if he’d forgotten anything. And it was fucking cute as hell.
“Well, baby, I’m a little fucking insane, and you knew that the night you showed up and never fucking left.”
“Okay.”
He blinked, his brow knotting between his eyes before they flicked up to meet mine. “Okay?”
I wanted this.
I wanted him.
I wanted Gage.
And the club.
And those thoughts that had plagued and taunted me for so long were right. I was in so fucking deep. But it wasn’t this deep, dark ocean I always imagined, where I was tossed in when the water got rocky. Where I just sunk into their depths and into the darkness, alone and not knowing whether someone would reach in and drag me back to the surface.
This was a different kind of deep.
One where I recognized that other people’s choices didn’t make my worth any less.
One where I recognized that the water was never going to always be smooth sailing, things were never going to be perfect, and occasionally we were going to end up in the water.
So maybe the deep is the same. The waters are still dark. They still get rough sometimes.
Maybe the thing that changed this time was that I learned how to swim.
“I don’t want to be anywhere else,” I admitted through a crashing wave of emotion. “I love you. And I fucking love Gage. And I love the club.”
“That’s everything I needed to hear,” he answered with a chuckle, shaking his head. “I wish I could fucking kiss you right now, but…”
“You can kiss my ass,” I answered, tugging on his hand.
“That’s it. I changed my mind.”
“No takebacks! You’re stuck with me.”
He groaned loudly and rolled his eyes. “The fuck have I done.”
“Come on now.”
I crinkled my nose, struggling to force my eyes to open. Was I really that tired? Why hadn’t it been this hard last time?
“Time to wake up.”
Shotgun?
No, it wasn’t Shotgun.
He’d gone to get Gage while I had a sleep.
Who was—
There was a sharp pinch in my arm, and I gasped, sucking in a long, deep breath like the last breath of life had suddenly been injected into my body. My heart began to race, that kind of feeling you got when you saw that boy you were crushing on, or when you got your first speeding ticket.
Only, it didn’t begin to calm.
It kept building.
My breathing building with it.
“That’s a good girl. Now, look up at me.” The voice, it sounded so far away. Like it was calling to me through a thick fog.
I managed to crack one eye open just a little, but everything was so bright, it made my entire body shudder, and I quickly squeezed them tight again. I wanted to rub at my eyes, try and get them to adjust, but every time I tried, nothing happened. My arms wouldn’t lift. It was like they were weighted down. Tied down, maybe?
My heart continued to race.
No matter what I did, it wouldn’t stop, it wouldn’t slow.
I forced my eyes open again, this time, the both of them flickering slowly. Little by little, I fought against the brightness, the light, the white ceiling, the white walls. Everything so damn white. “Wha…”
My stomach churned.
Don’t be sick.
Please don’t be sick.
You can’t get up.
“Avery, it’s so nice to see you again,” a deep voice murmured, a man in scrubs stepping into my vision and drawing up a chair beside me. He was pulling on a pair of gloves. Blue ones. He reached up with them, tugging the white facemask from his face, the sadistic grin behind it one I knew instantly.
Garrett Drake.
No.
Please, no.
Someone, please help me.
I couldn’t turn my head, just move my eyes. My heart at this point was racing so fucking fast like a horse around a track, pounding hard into the ground, searching for that finish line. Though, I was pretty sure if I didn’t get it to slow down soon, my finish line was going to be it exploding into a million pieces.
Garrett leaned in, so his face was directly above mine. “Sorry about forcing you to destroy your car earlier. I needed a way to get you here.”
It was him.
He’d forced me off the road.
I struggled to keep my eyes open, my heart racing internally, but my body feeling like it was exhausted. Frozen. It was like one of those bad dreams—those nightmares where you want to run, but your legs simply refuse to move. Only I knew this wasn’t a dream.
The smell of hospital cleaner had hit my senses, and when the asshole reached out, brushing my hair back from my face and tucking it gently behind my ear, I wanted to scream.
My fingers.
They moved.
The muscle in my arm twitching, making Garrett pull back suddenly with a grin. “You know what, I thought you were all tough talk...” He chuckled softly, reaching behind him for something. I kept fighting with that one limb, sweat collecting across my brow as I fought to lift it from the bed. I felt it rise as he scooted his chair back, flicking the needle he was holding.
A soft sob fell from my lips, and I felt warm tears slide down the side of my face.
“Hopefully, I can get this balance right,” he said slowly but loudly like he wasn’t about to inject my already highly alive body with something new. “Adrenaline to make your heart race, and this little beauty to make your body completely numb. Means you just have to lay there, helpless, while your heart feels like it’s about to explode into tiny little pieces.”
I wanted to yell.
Scream.
Plead for help.
I was in a hospital, so there had to be other people. But as he forced the needle into my arm, it was like someone placing a large rock on my body, so fucking heavy it felt like it was pushing me down into the bed and through the floor below.