Page 5 of Conflagration
The more Dad roars on about Knox giving up his life’s calling—subsequently my life’s calling—the happier I am that he’s gone. Finally, Dad swears that Knox’s leaving is grounds for him being disowned, and a wicked grin forms on my lips.
I know I’m a bastard. But right now, I don’t give a shit. I’m back on track, and if Knox was collateral damage, then so be it.
AS THE blackness starts to fade away, I see that white light, but it doesn’t really look like that tunnel. No, it’s just a scene change, and if I could muster up enough strength, I’d groan because there are things in my life I’d rather not relive. It’s bad enough that I have the memories and have been dealing with the fallout for far too long. Reliving it all over again is more agonizing than the first time around, because now, I know the truth. I betrayed my brother in the worst possible way when he’d done nothing wrong, but by the time I found out, it was far too late.
So why am I having these flashbacks playing in slow motion? I thought when you were on death's door, your life was supposed to flash before your eyes. So why am I replaying every single mistake I've ever made as if it were the first time—in slow motion instead of quick bursts? Maybe my life did flash before my eyes and it happened so fast that I missed it. Maybe I’m dead after all and this? This is my hell.
Present Day
“ACCORDING TO the paramedics on scene, he was shielding her body with his own, and he bore the brunt of the blast. It’s so sweet and sad at the same time. Hopefully his brain swelling goes down soon and he wakes up. He saved her life and kept her from serious injury. A hero like that deserves to live a long, fulfilling life.”
The sound of voices mixed with a steady beeping awakens me just in time to hear what she’s saying. Flashes of the accident pass through my mind, and it registers that I must be in the hospital. As the realization dawns on me, I feel a throbbing pain in my head, my body aching more than I ever imagined possible. When I slowly open my eyes, I have to wince at the bright fluorescent light shining down on me—which causes my head to hurt even more.
As I glance around the room, I take in the machines I’m currently hooked up to. My throat feels scratchy, and when I spot the two nurses going over my chart, I try to speak but nothing comes out. Just a garbled mess of unintelligible words. It’s enough to get their attention though, and they both look up at me, smiles laced with sympathy crossing each of their faces. A pager goes off, and one of the women excuses herself just as the other nurse comes over to my bed and presses a button that causes the upper part of the bed to rise until I’m in a sitting position.
“Welcome back, sweetie. Your throat’s probably just dry. Let’s get you some water,” she says, crossing to a sink and filling a glass for me.
When she returns to my bedside, she holds a straw to my lips. As the water slides down my throat, it tastes like heaven. The cool liquid quenches my thirst and coats my esophagus, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful for a drink in my life.
After clearing my throat, I attempt to speak again. “What happened?” I manage to croak out. Looking down at my body, I see some bruising and bandages, but the hospital gown and blankets are covering my torso and legs. I’m too scared to lift them to see what may lie beneath. “I mean, I remember the accident. Just not the aftermath. I think I passed out. How did I get here?”
Sympathy continues to play across her features, and I prepare myself for the worst. “After the accident happened, there was a gas leak in the semi truck’s cab, and then an explosion occurred. You have some cuts and contusions, bruised ribs, and a pretty nasty gash on your head. Your spleen was ruptured and we had to do emergency surgery to remove it, but other than that, everything else is relatively minor. You had a guardian angel tonight watching over you. If you had been any closer to the blast, things could be been a hell of a lot worse than they are now.”
Pulling my hand up to my head, I feel my forehead, and sure enough, it’s bandaged and wrapped all the way around. This must be the source of my pain, and I flinch when my fingers touch where I’m guessing the gash is.
“And the driver of the truck? I never saw him,” I ask, almost panicking that he didn’t make it out alive. I close my eyes as I wait for her to answer me.
“The truck driver escaped with minor burns and an ankle sprain. He was able to get away as well.”
I’m relieved that no one was killed in the crash just as an image of a handsome man flashes through my mind, and it all starts rushing in. My seatbelt sticking. The door refusing to budge. The handsome man, the one I never imagined I’d see again, beating on the glass until it finally broke. The way he leaned in and cut the seatbelt, barely grimacing as the broken glass cut into his skin as he lifted me out of the wreckage. And then the way he tucked me into him, as if I were the most cherished cargo he’d ever held. The last thing I remember is the hissing. The awful hissing noise that must have signaled the impending explosion. Shuddering, I’m relieved I wasn’t conscious for that part.
Shaking the noise out of my head, I open my eyes. I’m about to ask about my savior when the nurse gets a page. She sets the glass of water on the table beside me so it’s within reach and then pats my hand.
“There are some questions I need to ask you, but we can do that in a little bit. Until then, is there anyone you want us to call? Someone on scene was able to find your purse, which fortunately hadn’t been destroyed in the blast. There was no emergency contact information in your purse, however, and you’ve only been out of surgery for a couple of hours. We haven’t been able to track anyone down as of yet.”
The last thing I want is Victoria and William showing up here, especially with Benjamin in tow. Not wanting to worry anyone, I decide I’ll call Alyssa once things calm down. “No, I’m not from around here, and the last thing I want to do is worry my family. When I’m feeling a little more rested, I’ll give them a call.”
She gives me an understanding smile, and I sigh with relief that she’s not going to push me on this. At least not yet. “Okay, Ms. Covington. I understand completely. I’ll just set your purse here, and if you feel up to it, your cell is still inside. Now, I need to answer this page, but if you need anything in the meantime, don’t hesitate to hit the nurses’ call button. You may feel a little drowsy from the pain medication, so for now, try to get some rest.”
I watch as she leaves the room before I rest my head on my pillow, replaying the events of the past twenty-four hours. What should’ve been the prelude to one of the best days of my life has turned into a nightmare. Instead of wearing a white wedding dress, I’m stuck in a hospital gown. And even now, my fiancé—or, well, former fiancé—is the last man on my mind. No, instead, I’m thinking about the beautiful man who saved my life. Who once told me that he was beyond saving.
The night I met Branson Wellington, he was a mess. A drunken, pitiful, angry mess. This evening, I saw no signs of that man. I saw confidence. I saw arrogance. I saw determination. But I also saw the pain, the anger, the frustration. That broken man is still in there no matter what strides he’s made since that night eight months ago. Tonight, he saved me. And even though he once said that it’s impossible, I’m making it my mission to save him, too.
JUST LIKE the nurse said, the pain medication kicks in, because for the next few hours, I can barely keep my eyes open as I drift in and out of sleep. My dreams are plagued with images of the semi barreling towards me, but unlike reality, every time he tries, Branson’s never able to get me out of the car. I jolt awake just as the hissing sound begins. I’m a sweaty mess as I try to catch my breath. They say that, in dreams, you can never die, but I keep coming pretty damn close and it’s unnerving.
Resting my head back against the pillow, I grab the remote and flick on the television, not wanting to close my eyes again. The local news is on, and after a couple of segments, the aftermath of what I know is the car accident pops up on the screen. Even though I know I should turn the channel, my eyes are focused on the screen, on the wreckage, and a small gasp escapes my lips at the thought that I was able to escape such carnage. It looks like a scene out of Final Destination, and I gulp hard, hoping Death isn’t pissed that he didn’t quite get me this time.
Finally, the nurse returns, giving me her signature sweet smile as she enters the room. When she glances up at the screen, her face softens, and she takes the remote and flicks the channel until it stops on the E! Network.
“You don’t need to be seeing all that, honey,” she says as she begins checking my vitals. “Everything’s looking good so far. How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a semi,” I respond, giving a scratchy laugh that I immediately regret due to the pain in my bruised ribs. A coughing fit causes them to hurt even worse, and she rubs my back as she hands me a glass of water, which I gratefully accept.
She laughs at my comment. “Yeah, I imagine so. I know you’re in pain and it may not feel like it, but you really did get lucky out there. From what I hear, you had a savior, and without him, things could’ve been much worse.”
My heart races at the mention of him, and I have to know how he’s doing. If he’s the one she mentioned had brain swelling earlier when she was talking to the other nurse and thought I was asleep.
“How is he?” I ask meekly, almost afraid to know the answer.
