Page 176 of Stick It
“Right.” He gives her an apologetic grimace before returning his focus to me. His eyes blaze with so much fear still, like he’s stuck in that moment. In those feelings. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmurs, voice much softer this time.
While they’ve been rapid-firing questions, Griffin has circled around them to come to my other side. He stares down at me, like if he blinks, I might disappear.
“I’m here,” I tell him softly, reaching out to take his hand. “I’m here.”
The grip he has on me borders on painful, but I don’t dare ask him to loosen his hold. Knowing he’s here—that all of them are. That they were there when I needed them most…his hand in mine is as grounding for me as I imagine it is for him.
“I’m fine.” I give them the same answer I gave my mom, but unlike me, she doesn’t pull any punches. The second the words are out of my mouth, she scoffs.
“She’s sore, still.”
Immediately, the guys’ hackles are up.
“Where?” Ethan demands.
“Have you had painkillers?” Jax.
“I’ll go get a nurse.” Finn is halfway to the door before I call out to him to stop.
“My chest aches a bit and my head hurts,” I tell them succinctly, “but I’m okay. Really. The nurses have me on aschedule for pain meds. I’m sure they will be back when I’m due the next lot.”
It guts me, the way their expressions tighten, the guilt that bleeds into their eyes.
I can’t stand to look at it, but we can’t have the conversation we need to have with my mom in the room.
Throwing back the covers, I swing my legs over the side of the bed.
Ethan and Jax are immediately there, protesting.
“Whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?”
“Get back in bed, Thorn.”
I wave them off stubbornly. “I need to pee, not climb Mount Everest.”
Griffin, ever my savior, grabs the duffel bag they brought, rifling through it until he pulls out some sweats and a fresh T-shirt. Without a word, he holds his arm out for me to lean on and helps me to the bathroom.
He sets the pile of clothes on the floor, but instead of turning toward the door, he swings toward me. His hands frame my face, and he presses his forehead to mine. “Hurricane,” he breathes, like he thought he’d never get the chance to call me that again. I can hear the pain in his voice. The ache. “I’m so fucking thankful you’re alive.”
Then he kisses me, hot and quick, and desperate. Like he’s trying to brand the feeling of me alive onto his soul. Before I can respond, he pulls back, gives me a look that says he’s barely holding it together, and slips out, pulling the door quietly shut behind him.
I sag against the wall, breathing hard, ribs protesting, before forcing myself into the shower.
Once I’ve toweled off and changed, I step out of the bathroom, towel-drying my hair. The guys are talking quietly near the windows, but they all straighten the second they see me.
“Where’s my mom?” I ask, when I don’t see her.
“She went to get coffee,” Finn informs me. He says it with such ease, in such contradiction to the sudden thumping of my heart.
I’m moving toward the door on autopilot, dread forming like sludge in my gut.
She doesn’t cope well in hospitals…
My fingers are wrapped around the door handle when a scream comes from down the hall. I throw the door open and take off at a run. I hear the guys’ footsteps thundering behind me. My breath is short, and every inhale hurts, but I keep going. I need to get to my mom.
Rounding the corner, I careen to a stop when I find her at the nurses’ station, hysterical and arguing with a bewildered nurse.
“Where is he?” my mom demands. I sense more than hear the guys stopping behind me. “Patrick Callahan! How dare you not tell me where he is!”
