Page 25 of Big Trouble
“I get it. Although I’ve never come off a bike at speed, I’ve watched racers do it, get back up, shake it off and get right back out there.” Mr. Oswald nodded.
I’d seen it too. Witnessed the strength and toughness of others and always expected to be able to deal with it myself. Never thought I’d be the type of person to wimp out at the first sign of a problem. That wasn’t what Jack Cairney did.
“How do you feel right now?” the specialist asked.
“Sick.” I didn’t hesitate to reply. Now I’d started to talk, there seemed little point in stopping. I told him the emotions I’d struggled with only a couple of hours ago when faced with a bike. And one which wasn’t even a racing bike at that.
Mr. Oswald let me speak, nodding every now and again or jotting down some notes.
When I’d finished, I felt about a hundred pounds lighter. Having finally articulated what was going on in my head, I slumped back in the chair.
There was a few moments’ silence until Mr. Oswald spoke again.
“Jack, what you’ve just said isn’t unusual at all. In fact, I would have been more surprised if you hadn’t experienced some of those feelings. It was your first big crash, right?”
I nodded.
“Seeing your teammates, your friends, get up and walk away from those incidents doesn’t necessarily mean they’re not going through the exact same thing.”
It was true. We never spoke about it. We spoke about the physical, almost trying to outdo each other with the seriousness of our cuts, scrapes, sprains, breaks. Never how it affected us, whether we were scared or whether we could simply get back out there.
“I’m no expert on the mind, Jack, but if you wanted to, I could arrange for you to speak with someone?”
Slowly, I nodded. Maybe if I had been able to talk things through before, I wouldn’t have acted like such an ass towards Lo. Perhaps I wouldn’t have such a shitty attitude towards Maddox. Ha, well, maybe.
“Let me make some calls and I’ll be in touch with the details.” Mr. Oswald held out a hand. “Thank you for being honest. I’m sure you’ll be giving Marquez a run for his money and back out on the track in no time.”
I laughed as I shook it. “Not sure there’s anyone who can do that right now.” I paused. “Thank you. For everything.”
He inclined his head as I left the room. At last, someone who understood.
I made my way back to the elevator and punched the buttons to get back to the car park. As I stepped out on the right floor, I bumped into someone.
“I’m so sorry,” I began.
It was Scarlett.
We stood there, staring at each other for a long minute.
I didn’t know what to say.
I’d missed Wes’ funeral.
And I hadn’t called or checked on her since.
Her eyes filled with tears as I swept my gaze over her. She looked tired, dark circles giving it away. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail and… her stomach was popping slightly.
She saw where my eyes had landed. “Wes’ baby,” she managed.
It hit me hard. I struggled to choke back tears myself, as I reached out to gather her up in as strong an embrace as I could manage right now.
“I know. I’m so sorry,” I said again. “I should have been there. I was in the hospital.”
Scarlett buried her head into the crook of my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me. The comfort of her warm body eased my own worries for a moment. “I know. He knew you loved him, Jack. He would have understood.” She stepped back, swiping the tears away from her cheeks and I clocked the engagement ring on her left hand. “Although he wouldn’t understand why you’re tormenting your therapist.”
“How do you know?” I asked, although I probably already knew the answer.
“Lyla.” Scarlett managed a small smile. “She keeps me posted on all the gossip.”
