Page 145 of Broken Trails
It’s Harrison’s mug.
Way too close. Way too serious.
He jolts upright when his eyes find mine, like I’ve just shot electricity through him. “Holy shit! Y-you’re awake.” His voice cracks, the relief in it doing something weird to my chest.
“Jesus,” I croak, my voice like sandpaper. “You’re not the face I was hoping to wake up to.”
He huffs out a breath—half a laugh, half relief. “Well, nice to see you too, asshole. How ya feeling?” he asks, his eyes scanning me like he’s ready to call a nurse if I so much as blink wrong.
I smirk, even though my lips feel heavy. “Peachy. Just went for a little joyride and thought I’d drop in here for the food.”
“Good to see you’re starting to become your usual cunty self,” he counters, shaking his head.
I huff out a laugh, but it sends a spear of pain straight through my ribs, stealing the air from my lungs. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth.
“Shit. Take it easy,” Harrison warns, his voice low but firm.
I force my eyes open again, and that’s when I notice the figure beside me. A mess of auburn hair spills over the arm of the chair, catching the light through the blinds.
Zoe.
My Zoe.
Curled into a ball in a chair far too small for her, looking both completely out of place and exactly where she’s meant to be. My body goes still. The impulse to sit up, to lean forward and reach for her, is instant. “What—”
“Shhh.” Harrison cuts me off, catching my stare. “Don’t wake her. She only just crashed.”
My brows pull tight, and my throat’s so dry it aches. “When… when did she get here?”
“Monday morning,” he says.
Monday? Fuck. “What day is it now?”
“Tuesday.”
Almost two days. I’ve been out for almost two days, and she’s been here—like this—the whole damn time. She looks exhausted, cheeks a little sunken, dark circles under her eyes. It hits me square in the chest, heavier than the pain from my ribs.
“Do you remember what happened?” Harrison asks quietly. “Do you know where you are?”
I drag my eyes from her to him and manage a smirk. “I’m guessing Wattle Creek Hospital, no?”
He nods but doesn’t smile. “You took a hard hit, Mikey. Two fractured ribs. Blunt trauma to your chest and head. Minor internal bleeding. They had you on ventilation support in the ICU. Pain management is ongoing. But you’re improving. They’ve started weaning you off the anaesthesia.”
My lips twitch, even though inside, I’m a mess. “So… nothing major then?”
Harrison just shakes his head, but I catch the faintest huff of a laugh before it fades. I let out a slow breath, the ache everywhere reminding me I’m still alive, still here.
His voice drops now. “Doc said it was a fucking miracle you survived. Said they were surprised you weren’t dead from the collision.” One tear slips down his cheek before he huffs a laugh, and I give him the same. But I know exactly what my miracle was—and she’s sitting right here, asleep, breathing.
“I’ll leave you with her for a bit,” he says, stepping in to run a careful hand over my hair before pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “I love you, Michael. Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again. You don’t get to leave this world without me, you hear me?”
My lip trembles, but I nod. “Love you too, brother.”
He lingers, looking over at Zoe. “Since she’s been here, she’s practically told off every nurse. She even threatened one for not doing something quick enough. She hasn’t left your side.”
It doesn’t surprise me, not for a second. But it cuts right into that familiar ache in my chest.
Love.
