by Lex Martin
Courtney snorts behind me, and I turn around, flashing her a glare.
“Um, definitely not. Doesn’t mean I’d want him dead.”
“All right, go check on him while I check on Mia.”
“Okay.”
“Mia Montgomery is in 707, and Travis King is in 713, just down that hall.” The doctor directs us. We both thank him. “Just a few minutes,” he reminds us.
Courtney walks with me to Travis’s room but doesn’t follow me inside.
“I’ll wait out here so you two can be alone.”
I purse my lips and exhale. “Okay.”
I knock softly on the door before slowly opening it. I’m not sure what to expect, but I just need to visually confirm that he’s okay.
“Travis?” I walk quietly up to his bed, taking in his closed eyes and the bandage over his forehead. “Can you hear me?” I take his hand, feeling his warmth against mine, and wait for a response.
He has an IV in his other hand, his left knee is propped up on pillows under the sheets, and his face is bruised and swollen. I’ve never seen him like this before, and for the first time, he looks vulnerable. My chest aches, seeing his body lying almost lifeless, his chest slowly rising and falling, and I can’t help but want to kiss every bruised part of him.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, I keep his hand in mine and hope he can hear what I’m about to say.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, but it’s V.” I choke down tears and laughter. “I can’t believe I just called myself that.”
I wait, hoping he’ll respond and join in on our inside joke, but he doesn’t flinch. I watch his chest move up and down as the sounds of the machines fill the room.
“You look pretty awful, but the doctor says you should be back to your normal self in no time. Truthfully, seeing you like this is tearing me apart.”
I swallow and catch my breath, and then I begin to ramble. “I don’t know why you and Mia were together, and I honestly don’t think I want to know. I’m going to try to trust you, Travis. It’ll be hard because of our past, but I’m going to try to be more like Drew. It doesn’t faze him at all that you were with Mia, and it reminded me that although you’re an asshole most of the time, you wouldn’t do anything like that to Drew. Apparently, there’s some sort of bro code.” I shake my head at the thought.
“To be honest, I hope you wouldn’t do that to me either, but I don’t know where we stand and what we’re doing. When you get out of here, and you’re not hooked to machines like Darth Vader, we’re going to have to talk—like a real talk—about us. I need to know that we’re on the same page and where we should go from here. I want to trust you, Travis, and I’m going to try really hard. Please don’t make me regret wearing my heart on my sleeve.”
I sit next to him for a few more minutes, watching him sleep. Realizing I’ve been in his room way too long, I squeeze his hand, wishing he’d squeeze it back, but he never does. I stand and lean over him, careful not to touch or put weight on his chest and press my lips to his.
“Bye, Travis,” I whisper.
I walk toward the door, wiping my face as tears begin falling down my cheeks. I can’t stand to see him so vulnerable and broken; it’s tearing me apart. Before I can open the door, a nurse walks in and immediately studies my face.
“Oh, it’s okay, sweetie.” She flashes me a genuine smile. “Mr. King will have a full recovery in a few weeks. He’s pretty drugged up on painkillers right now, but I’ll let him know you were here.”
All I can do is nod and reach for the door.
I really hope this isn’t game over.
Chapter 3
Travis
The constant beep pulls me back to a harsh reality with whitewashed walls and numbing pain that coats my body from head to toe. I force my eyes open, and it’s hard to pinpoint what hurts the most. My throat is painfully dry, and the thick fog my head is swimming in makes it hard to focus in the bland room. I glance down at the countless tubes attached to my arm and broken memories cut through the confusion like shards of glass I can’t piece together.
The rhythmic tone of the machine I’m attached to and the low sound of the television pull my limited attention to the corner of the room. I can’t make out the words, and it takes everything I have just to turn my head toward the noise. Once I’m able to focus, I hear rustling and watch as Drew sits up from the chair. He rubs a hand over his face and flashes a small grin. He’s wearing his blues and badge, and it somewhat confuses me.
“The King lives.”
It hurts when I try to laugh and end up coughing instead. “Barely.”
“You look rough.”
He does too, but I don’t tell him that. He must’ve been sitting here a while.
He looks me over with concern written on his face. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit,” I admit. “What happened? What day is it?”
A bandage is wrapped around my head, and I realize I have one wrapped around my leg too. Nausea overtakes me for a second, and I try to reposition my body, but it’s a lost cause. The bed is raised so high; I’m basically sitting up straight, which is uncomfortable as hell. My neck is tight, and the loud pounding in my head continues on the beat, making it harder to focus on anything but the intense pain. I try reaching for the plastic cup of water on a silver tray next to my bed, but it’s out of reach.
“I’ll get it,” Drew says, grabbing it and handing it to me. “It’s Tuesday morning.”
I take it, hating that I need his help. I end up drinking it so fast, I gasp for air afterward, and even that hurts. His words finally register with me. Tuesday? I know I’ve been in and out of it, but four days of my life has evaporated into what seems like hours.
Drew takes a deep breath before he starts explaining the technicality of the accident in cop lingo. I give him a look, letting him know I have no fucking idea what he’s talking about, so he begins again, explaining it more slowly and without as much detail so I can comprehend it all.
“You were rear-ended at a high rate of speed and pushed into oncoming traffic. A few fractured ribs, a concussion, bruises, cuts, and lots of pain meds from what I’ve been told. The airbag went off and caused a lot of damage. But they said you’d live, and that your thick skull will be okay.” He forces out a laugh. “I was worried, though, man. They said you both could’ve died, and you were really lucky. I thought the worst. I’ve seen way too many accidents like this where people aren’t as fortunate.” He inhales a deep breath, his eyes glassing over. “And Mia...”
Shit. I’d almost forgotten she was with me. Bits and pieces of that night start to flash by, but when I try to remember the accident, my mind goes blank. I can’t remember a damn thing after leaving the gas station.
The selfish part of me is grateful Viola wasn’t in the car with me. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to her on my watch.
“How’s Mia?” My heart thumps hard in my chest at the realization I was responsible for another person in the car.
“She’s doing okay. She got lucky; you both did. She could’ve easily been ejected from the car because she wasn’t wearing a seat belt. She smacked her head and has a lot of bruises,” Drew explains.
The pain on his face is evident as he talks about her. Their relationship has been toxic since day one, but for some reason, he loves her unconditionally. I’ve never second-guessed that, but he deserves someone a lot better than her. Even after everything, I know he still cares about her well-being.
“I’m sorry, man,” I begin, relieved she’s not hurt worse. “I wish I could remember what happened, but I can explain why she was with me.” He hadn’t asked why, but even being high as a kite on pain meds, I know I owe him that much. “Mia and I—” I start to explain, but he’s quick to cut me off.
“Travis, stop. I trust you more than anyone. You need to rest and shouldn’t waste your strength explaining anything to me.”
I want to argue, tell him that I do have to explain t
he circumstances that brought Mia and I together on Thursday night, but between the meds and the truth of his words ripping through me, I’m left speechless.
“As crazy as it sounds, I miss her so fucking much. She won’t let me be there for her, and even after what she said to me the last night we were together, I want to be there for her more than anything.”
“Because you’re a good man,” I choke out. He truly is, and as much as it would hurt for him to hear, Mia doesn’t deserve him. Drew deserves better.
He shrugs. “Her parents came up right away, so I gave them privacy. I don’t know what Mia told them about us, so I figured it was best to stay away and let her rest.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly, not having the strength to tell him about Will Tamer. Damn her. I’d like to have forgotten those details, but they are as clear as a California summer sky.
“Your mom was here on Saturday,” he says, changing the subject. I arch my brows, surprised to hear she came. “Stayed for hours, but the nurse said you probably wouldn’t be coherent for a few days, so I told her to go home and get some rest, and I’d call her when you were up for visitors.”
I swallow hard and guilt washes over me. I haven’t called and checked on her recently. Life got in the way is not a good enough excuse. I can’t find my words, and all I want to do is go back to sleep, but my mind won’t stop wandering and thinking what if.
“Viola checked in on you, too,” Drew continues. “Surprised she didn’t set a spell to put you in a permanent coma.” He chuckles, making me smile at the thought of her being here.
Viola.
I feel like shit for the way things were left between us. God, I miss her. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking about me being with Mia, but I know it can’t be good. Drew continues talking, filling the room with words, and I keep trying to listen, but with every passing minute, it becomes harder. Focus slips through my fingers like water.
“Bad news, though,” he says, his words bringing me back to him, “the Challenger is totaled.”
“Fucking hell,” I curse, exhaustion completely covering me like a warm blanket. My eyes are heavy, and I’m fighting to stay awake, but I’m drifting further and further away from Drew’s voice. Soon everything goes black.
I wake up to a dark room and am completely disoriented on what time it is or if it’s even the same day. I have no fucking idea anymore. I glance around and see a tray of food with green Jell-O and two plastic cups of liquid. I don’t have an appetite, but my throat is still dry.
I’m able to reach over and grab one of the cups. As I finish off the apple juice, I realize I have to piss. I don’t know if I have a catheter or not, so I shift to the end of the bed to find my way to the bathroom.
Within seconds, I realize the pain is too much, and I can’t lift myself. Jesus. This fucking sucks. I feel like a pathetic, weak pansy.
I see the remote on the side of my bed with a big red button and press it for help.
“Nurses’ station.”
“Uh, yeah… I think I need some help.”
The woman clears her throat. “What can I help you with, Mr. King?”
My voice drops to a whisper, and I’m humiliated even asking. “Uh, bathroom.”
“What was that? Speak up, honey. I can barely hear you.”
I groan, curling my fingers into fists. Fuck it; I’ll do it myself. As I try to stand again, my body screams out in protest, and frustration gets the best of me.
Surrendering, I respond, “Pissing. I need to piss, okay?”
“I’ll send someone in.”
At least ten minutes pass and my bladder feels like it’s going to explode. They’ve been pumping me full of fluids and medicine for hours, and it’s finally caught up to me. I’m two seconds away from pissing on the floor when a gray-haired woman walks in.
“Glad to see you’re awake.” She smiles. “I’m Nancy.”
All I can offer her is an impatient smile. She pulls the blankets farther back and adjusts her body in front of me to help my balance.
“It hurts to breathe,” I tell her before attempting to stand once again.
“Fractured ribs will do that. You’ll probably be stiff from being in bed for so long, so it’s even more important to start walking around now that you’re out of the haze.” She gives me her arm, and I feel guilty for leaning against her small frame. It takes everything I have not to scream out in pain when I get to my feet. Dizziness surrounds me, my head feels like it splitting in two, and I grab the woman as though she’s my saving grace.
We take small steps all the way to the bathroom, which isn’t that far, but somehow, it feels like we’ll never get there. She pulls the machine and fluids behind me and keeps one arm around my waist.
“Do you want me to walk in with you?” she asks in a casual tone.
“No,” I say before she follows me in. “Thanks, but I should be fine.” I spot the metal railing along the wall and hold onto it for balance.
“I’ll be right outside the door,” she informs me, turning her back.
This is fucking humiliating.
I need the added stability, so I hold on—my knuckles white from the tight grip. Once I’m finished, I rub antibacterial foam in my hands and walk out to where she’s waiting for me. She places her arm around me, and we make our long journey back to the bed. A breeze brushes across my bare ass, and I realize there’s nothing underneath the thin hospital gown. I’m sure the nurse has seen an eyeful already while walking me to the bathroom, but I don’t have the energy to care.
She must notice my discomfort because as soon as I turn to sit back down on the bed, I’m quick to cover back up. “Don’t worry, hon. I’ve seen it all in my thirty years of being a nurse.” She grins, but that doesn’t ease my concern.
I’m a proud man and not shy about my body, but this woman is old enough to be my grandmother.
She helps me settle back into the bed, covering me up and pushing the tray closer to me.
“You should try to eat something,” she says.
I nod, not wanting to tackle that feat just yet, but I don’t argue with her.
“This is for your morphine drip.” She places the cord across my lap, along with the remote that has a call button. “If you feel more pain coming on, push this button. You can get another dose every seventeen minutes if you need it.”
I tell her thank you, and she reminds me to press the call button if I need anything else. Is liquor an option?
“The doctor will go over your file and check in on you around seven or eight. As long as your stats are stable, you should have no issue getting discharged within a day or two.” Her smile is genuine, and she has a sweet demeanor, just like my mother.
“And today is what day exactly?”
“Thursday, honey. We started giving you less pain medication and removed your catheter, so things should start feeling back to normal soon.”
I knew it felt like I was pissing fire. As I lift my legs and lean back onto the pillow, I look over and see my cell phone sitting on the counter. Nancy notices and hands it over. I try to turn my phone on, but it’s dead. I let out a frustrated groan.
“Is that an iPhone?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nancy smiles, then winks. “I have a charger for you back at the nurses’ station. You probably want to get in touch with that girl who’s been calling to check on you several times a day.”
She smiles and finishes entering the updates into the computer before quietly walking out and shutting the door behind her. I glance at the clock and see it’s just after 3:00 a.m. I probably won’t get much sleep at this point, but my body is begging for it. I’ve never felt so drained in my entire life.
When I close my eyes, images of Viola fill my mind. I can almost taste her lips on mine, and I cringe as I remember the look on her face when she left the house. I wish we didn’t leave things the way we did, but I’m determined more than ever to make it right again. The door opens and closes before I he
ar Nancy plug in my phone. If I weren’t so exhausted, and it wasn't so late, I’d call Viola right now just to hear her voice.
Before falling back asleep, I think about Mia, and how she’s a complete fucking mess. Drew needs to know the truth, but I know it’ll hurt him more than anything. If their relationship is truly over, there’s no point in digging the knife deeper.
I think about how Mia was starting to freak out, so I pulled off the highway and into a parking lot to help calm her down. She was nearly in tears, and knowing Drew wouldn’t want her to be upset, I tried comforting her the best that I could.
Before I can think about what happened after that, I’m ripped away from my thoughts of her to the thoughts of my car. Memories of the sounds of breaking glass and crashing metal start to surface, but I can’t visualize any of it, which almost makes it worse. Maybe it’s for the best, but I wish I could erase all the memories of what happened from my mind.
Sharp pain stabs me in the chest as I linger on my thoughts. Before they can transform into nightmares, I push the miracle button to erase it all, and soon enough, I’m drifting into nothingness.
I’ve been completely out of it since I saw Travis in his hospital bed on Friday morning. It’s been eight grueling days and the fact that school starts back tomorrow doesn’t help. Where did the time go? Most of it was spent trying to work out the scenario that led Travis and Mia together. I don’t know the circumstances, but I’m going to try to give him the benefit of the doubt. Not knowing has been torture, but I won’t allow myself to jump to conclusions until we talk. I don’t know what I should be thinking or doing right now, but one thing is for certain: I can’t handle another broken heart because of him.
At the beginning of spring break, I said I didn’t want to be around Travis. Now, it’s torture being away from him. I wake up Sunday morning to the ringing of my phone. My heart races when I see Travis’s name flash across the screen. I quickly answer, and butterflies mixed with an anxious feeling swarm my entire body.