Beautifully Broken Control

by Catherine Cowles

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and tapped 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “There’s been a bike accident on the corner of”—I had to look up to find the street names—“Crest View and Main. The woman is unconscious. She has a pulse. I don’t know what I should do. She’s on her side. Her face…it’s in the dirt. Should I roll her to her back? I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “Sir, an ambulance is en route, don’t move her, we don’t know if there’s a spinal injury.”

  I closed my eyes as though that would erase the possibility. Kennedy, my beautiful dancer, not being able to walk? No. I refused to believe it. A small moan sounded, and my eyes flew open. “Kennedy? Kenz? Can you hear me?”

  She let out another moan and rolled to her back. My hand went to her shoulder. “Don’t move, they don’t want you to move, baby.”

  “What happened?”

  I started to answer, but a man jogged up. “Is she okay? Did you call an ambulance?”

  “No, she’s not okay,” I gritted out. “An ambulance is on its way.” I could faintly hear the sirens in the distance now.

  “How can I help? Do you want me to move your car?”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see that people were driving around it, but it was still somewhat blocking traffic. “Sure, the keys are inside.” I didn’t give a fuck about my Rover, all I cared about was Kenz. My gaze focused back on her. “What hurts?”

  She squinted up at me. “Cain?” The confusion in her voice was apparent. Not good.

  “It’s me. I’m here. You’re safe. Can you tell me what hurts?” I made an inventory of her the best I could. The right side of her face was all scraped, blood trickling down to her chin, but I knew it could’ve been so much worse if she hadn’t been wearing a helmet. The purple plastic had a large crack down the side, and I winced, thinking of how much force it would take to do that. Her shirt was torn and stained red on the right, and her pants were covered in dirt.

  “Everything. It all hurts.” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, but as it did, her feet moved. It was a small, testing action as if to see if her legs hurt, but it was movement nonetheless.

  The sirens were closer now. “Try not to move. The ambulance is here. They’re going to help you.”

  “No. No ambulance. Please.” Her eyes were wide now, almost panicked.

  “Kenz, you need the damn hospital, and they are going to get you there.”

  She winced at my tone. “I don’t have health insurance.”

  I let out a slew of curses. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got you.” Kennedy blinked up at me, then opened her mouth to say something else. “Don’t. Do not even think about telling me to send the ambulance away. They are going to help you, and you are going to let them.”

  Her fingers reached out, feeling for mine. “Okay.”

  My entire body sagged. “Thank you.”

  “Sir.” An EMT ran up, another following him, a backboard between them. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  I walked them through everything I could, and then they got to work, forcing me to take a step back. But I stayed as close as I was allowed.

  A throat cleared behind me. “Um, here are your keys. I parked it right over there.”

  I didn’t even bother to look. I didn’t give a damn. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  My gaze focused on Kenz as they rolled her onto the backboard. “Can you take the keys to the police station? Give them to Walker Cole and tell him where you parked it?”

  “Of course. No problem. You know her or something?”

  “Yeah, I know her.” I still didn’t look at the man. He was nice enough, doing me a favor, but you could tell he was one of those gawker hangers-on that got a thrill out of emergencies.

  “Okay. I’ll go do that now.”

  “Thanks.”

  The EMTs lifted the backboard, carrying it towards a gurney. “You riding with us?” one of them asked.

  “I am.”

  “Stay back until we load her in.”

  I watched as they worked. I’d only felt this powerless one other time. A time that, if I thought about it now, I’d lose it, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover. Focus on Kennedy. She’s here, she’s okay. They’re helping her.

  “You can hop in, sir.”

  I was climbing into the rig before the EMT had even finished his sentence. “How’s she doing?” I gave the EMT more of my attention now. He looked like he was barely out of high school.

  “I’m fine, Cain. Just a little banged up.”

  My head snapped in Kennedy’s direction. “You are not fine. You flipped off your bike, going at least twenty miles an hour and were knocked unconscious. So, if the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with not needing to go to the hospital, I swear I will have a suit made out of Bubble Wrap for you and force you to wear it.”

  Kennedy’s mouth stretched into a smile, which instantly turned to a wince, the action pulling at the torn skin on the side of her face. “No Bubble Wrap for me.” She forced levity into her tone, but I could hear the pain underlying it.

  I took hold of her hand. “We’re going to get you fixed up.” I turned to the EMT. “Right?”

  He nodded quickly. “We’ll be to the hospital as quick as we can.”

  The sirens flipped on as we pulled into traffic. “How long does it usually take?”

  “About twenty minutes.”

  My jaw clenched. That was a hell of a trek in a true emergency. My mind whirled with contingency plans. Maybe I could put a helipad on my lake property and have a pilot on standby, perhaps employ a nurse.

  Kennedy’s hand squeezed mine. “Cain. I’m fine. I promise.”

  The feel of her hand in mine was soothing. The rhythmic series of squeezes. It eased something in me. Slowed the pace of my mind. Stilled the cycles it so easily descended into. How could a single delicate hand do all that?

  I lifted her hand to my mouth and pressed my lips to the back of it. “You’re right. You’re going to be fine.”

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I lifted a hip off the seat to pull it out. Walker’s name flashed on the screen. I hit accept. “Hey, Walk.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  “Kennedy took a spill off her bike. She’s going to be fine, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a concussion. We’re on our way to the hospital.”

  “I’ll head there as soon as I pick up your SUV.”

  Kennedy squeezed my hand again, bringing my attention back to her. “Tell them not to come. There’s no reason.” She obviously knew what our friends’ immediate reaction would be. I must have looked doubtful because she pushed on. “I don’t want a bunch of people there.”

  “What’s going on?” Walker barked in my ear.

  “Sorry. Kennedy says not to come.”

  “Tough shit.”

  I grinned. “She doesn’t want to be fawned over right now, Walk. It’s just going to stress her out to know you’re all in the waiting room. I’ll call you as soon as we know what’s going on, and you and the rest of the gang can come check on her as soon as we’re home.”

  Walker blew out an audible breath across the line. “I want regular updates. The girls are going to be worried sick.”

  I winced. All the women in Walker’s circle were natural-born nurturers, and therefore, worriers. It manifested in different ways, but they all cared deeply and fiercely. “Do what you can to keep them settled.”

  “Updates will help.”

  “You got it. I need to go.”

  “Okay. Take care of her, brother.”

  “You know I will.”

  Walker grunted, and we both hung up.

  “Success?” Kennedy asked hopefully.

  I rubbed my thumb over the back of her hand. “With Walker, yes. Hopefully, he’ll be able to keep the others at bay.” I paused, studying her face. “But they care about you, Kennedy. They want to make sure you�
�re okay.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes, and I scrambled forward, cupping the side of her face that wasn’t marred with scratches and cuts. “Baby, no. What’s wrong?”

  Kennedy tried to swallow the tears back, to get them under control, but a few slipped free. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt that. Not since—” Her breath started to hiccup as she held back the sob.

  “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” I pressed the side of my face against hers. “You’re not alone.” Her body gave a shudder, and she sucked in a breath that I knew was pain-induced. “Try to relax. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t.”

  Kennedy gave a small nod, and I straightened, daring the EMT to say something with my eyes. Wisely, he said nothing.

  The sirens ceased as we pulled to a stop. Within seconds, the back doors were open, and the EMTs were pulling Kennedy from the ambulance. We’d made it. Kennedy was going to get help, and everything would be fine. So why couldn’t I get the fist that had my heart in a vise to relax?

  25

  Kennedy

  There had been bloodwork and x-rays and, at Cain’s insistence, even an MRI. My cuts had been doctored by a nurse, and an IV inserted. Finally, I had been returned to my bay in the ER. I scowled at Cain as the gurney was locked into place.

  “Why are you scowling at me?”

  “Was the MRI really necessary?”

  He scooted his chair closer to my bed. “Yes. There is plenty you can’t see on an x-ray.”

  I rolled my eyes and then winced. God, even my eyeballs hurt. I felt like I needed to submerge my entire body in ice and not come out for days.

  “What hurts?” Cain slipped his hand into mine.

  There had been a lot of touching in the past few hours. Touching and terms of endearment and things that made my already scrambled brain scramble even more. What was going on? I didn’t dare ask because I didn’t want to risk it going away. “Pretty much everything hurts.”

  “Where the hell is that doctor?” Cain growled. “You need pain meds.”

  I squeezed his hand. “They have to read the x-rays and MRI before they give me anything, you know that.” The nurse had told him so. Repeatedly.

  Cain let out a little huff of air. “Well, they could hurry up about it.”

  “I’m sure they’re going as fast as they can. Just relax, would you? You’re stressing me out.”

  “Sorry.” Cain’s focus moved from the daggers he was staring at the curtain to me, gentling. “Sorry.” He let out a long breath. “Do you know what happened? How you lost control?”

  I hadn’t had a moment to really think about it. The whole thing was a bit fuzzy—thankfully so—but I remembered when the first lick of panic had set in. “My brakes. They wouldn’t work.”

  Cain let out another growl. “Probably because that bike is older than Irma.”

  I pressed my lips together to hold in my laugh, knowing it would only hurt. “I’m going to tell her you said that.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try and send me for one more test, and you’ll see.”

  Cain’s thumb traced a pattern over the back of my hand. “No more tests.” He paused. “Unless the doctor says you need them.”

  I groaned, but before I could say anything, the curtain pulled back, and a woman in a white lab coat appeared. She had a warm face, one that instantly put me at ease. Her tumble of curls was piled high atop her head, and she held what I assumed was my chart. “Ms. Charles, I’m Dr. Moseley. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m doing okay, thanks.”

  “She’s in pain,” Cain immediately cut in.

  Dr. Moseley gave me a gentle smile. “That’s understandable, you took quite a tumble. As soon as I examine you, I’ll get a nurse in here with some pain meds.” She crossed to the bed, taking out a penlight. “The x-rays and MRI are clear, but I want to check you for a concussion. Are you nauseous at all?”

  I bit down on my bottom lip. “Maybe a little.”

  “What about dizzy?”

  “Not really, but I haven’t stood up or anything.”

  The doctor nodded. “Okay, I’m just going to shine this in your eyes to check your pupils.”

  She flashed the light over my irises, and I winced.

  “Is that uncomfortable?”

  My hands fisted the blanket. “It’s not exactly rainbows and butterflies.”

  Dr. Moseley chuckled. “I won’t put you through that again. It’s safe to say you have a mild concussion.” She reached down and pressed the nurse call button. “I’m going to have them give you an intravenous pain medication now, and I’ll write you a prescription for an oral medication you can have filled at your pharmacy.” The doctor glanced over at Cain. “Will you be taking care of her?”

  I opened my mouth to say I could take care of myself, but Cain beat me to it. “Yes, she’ll be staying with me until she’s well.”

  Dr. Moseley placed the penlight back in her pocket. “Perfect. You’ll need to wake her every few hours for the next twenty-four. If she shows any worsening symptoms—vomiting, memory loss, inability to stand—bring her back to the hospital immediately. But I don’t think that will be an issue.”

  She looked back to me. “Mostly, you’re going to be very sore for the next week or two. I’m ordering lots of rest and no work or strenuous activity for the next seven days. I want you to follow up with your primary care doctor then.”

  I winced. “Are you sure I have to miss work for a whole week? Wouldn’t a couple of days be enough?”

  “Kennedy…” My name was a warning. I ignored Cain and looked hopefully at the doctor.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Charles, but it’s important you let your body heal. If you push yourself too much, too soon, the recovery could last much longer.”

  I blew out a breath, sending the wisps of hair around my face flying. “Okay.”

  She patted the side of my bed. “Take it as a forced vacation.”

  A nurse strode into the room, syringe in hand. “I’ve got the meds you ordered, Dr. Moseley.”

  “Thank you, Sean.” She took the syringe from him and deftly inserted it into the IV tube. At least I didn’t have to get poked again. “That should take effect very quickly. I’ll get your discharge papers, and you’ll be good to go.”

  “Thank you.” I reached out to shake her hand.

  “Anytime. But try to stay upright on that bike.”

  “I’ll be doing my best, trust me.”

  The medical staff left, and Cain rose. “I need to make a call. Will you be all right? It’ll be quick.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll just be here waiting for those sweet, sweet drugs to kick in.”

  His lips twitched. “You hopped up on painkillers could be interesting…” I stuck out my tongue at him, and he chuckled as he headed for the hall.

  I ran my hands over the rough blanket. What would’ve happened if Cain hadn’t seen my fall? I would’ve had to go through this whole ordeal alone. I prided myself on how strong I’d gotten over the past two years. Steel forged in fire. But in this moment, I was so very grateful to not be alone in this. Not to be going back to an empty studio. To have someone to lean on.

  A faint fog flitted over me. Ah, thank you, pain meds. I leaned my head back on the bed and let my eyes close.

  “Kenz, open those eyes for me.”

  I let out a little moan but obeyed. Cain was leaning over me. “The car is out front, and I have all your discharge paperwork.”

  “How long was I out?” I gave my body a testing stretch. Things didn’t hurt quite as bad as they had before.

  “Only forty-five minutes.” He reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you up.”

  The getting to sitting had some pain flaring back to life, but I did my best to hide it. “Thank you.” The breathlessness in my voice gave the pain away.

  The same male nurse from before appeared with a wheelchair. “Your chariot awaits, madame.”

  Cain scowled at the nur
se, and I grinned. “Thank you.” I eased into the chair, and we headed for the exit. “Wait. Cain, we don’t have a car.” I hadn’t even thought of that when I told him to tell Walker not to come to the hospital.

  “I got a car service.” Of course, he did. “I’ll have them swing by your apartment to pick up Chuck and some of your belongings. I had Jensen pack you a bag.”

  I blinked up at him. “You’ve been busy.”

  He shrugged as the sliding doors opened, and a black town car appeared. The driver got out and circled to open the door. Cain helped me out of the wheelchair and held my hands as I lowered myself into the vehicle, wincing as I went.

  In a matter of seconds, Cain was settled in the car next to me, and we were heading back to Sutter Lake. I glanced over at Cain. There was tension behind his eyes, a furrow of worry between his brows that had a swarm of guilt rolling around in my belly. I laid my hand over his. I wanted to tell him that I was fine for the five-hundredth time that day, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me. Whoever he’d lost—it had marked him. Created a lens through which he viewed the world.

  I knew a little something about lenses that changed the way you saw things. They were always a mixed bag. Some good, some bad, just like life in general. But Cain’s, it seemed to twist things into those old, dark fairytales, the real ones, not the Disney versions, where everything was a potential threat. I hated that for him. But I was sure that same lens also made him the fierce protector and amazing friend that he was. You couldn’t have one without the other. But maybe, just maybe you could heal a bit of the first.

  26

  Cain

  I pulled the covers up around Kennedy; she was already out like a light. The ride home, picking up her belongings, even just changing into her pajamas, had taken everything out of her. My hands lingered by her shoulders, holding tight to the blanket. I bent slowly, dipping low, my chest constricting with each minuscule movement. I gently pressed my lips to her forehead and simply breathed her in. The scents of the hospital were already fading, replaced by the hint of rose from her hair, and that thing I still hadn’t been able to name.