I sit there for hours, fingers tangled loosely with hers, guard dog mode switched fully on.Anyone who walks down this hallway gets my stare.Anyone who looks into this room gets evaluated as a threat.Anyone who had anything to do with her crash,
They aren’t going to make it out of Freedom Falls alive.
That is my vow.
Eight
Kelly
My instincts know him.My mind doesn’t.Which part of me should I trust?
The morning sun through the hospital blinds feels too bright.Too sharp.Like the world is trying to convince me everything is normal when nothing in my head feels even remotely close to regular.The universe is giving me light and life while my head is stuck in a vortex of confusion.Things feel familiar but I can’t pin point how it all connects.
My body aches everywhere, dull throbs layered over the kind of bone-deep exhaustion I can’t sleep off.But it’s my mind that feels the most fragile.A puzzle with half the pieces missing and no picture on the box to guide me.I remember things, like I know my name, my birthday, the basics.But it’s like I’ve somehow lost my most recent times.
A nurse finishes disconnecting my IV and gives me a warm smile.“Ready to go home?”
I hesitate.
Home.
What does that even mean anymore?The word doesn’t match anything in my memory.There’s no place my mind reaches for.No address that sparks comfort.I remember being a child and growing up in Freedom Falls, Alabama, but I can’t discern where my adulthood took me other than to work at a bakery with Ally.
The thing is I can’t tell if my memory of baking is about what Ally told me or if I really remember.
I swallow.“I guess.”I mean really what else is there to say.
She pats my shoulder.“You’ll feel better once you’re in familiar surroundings.”
But that’s the thing, nothing feels familiar except the man standing by the window.And he feels comforting but I can’t recall why.
Riot hasn’t moved more than ten feet from me since I woke up yesterday.He stayed overnight in that hard plastic chair, boots planted on the floor, arms crossed over his chest like he is guarding something precious he has no intention of losing.And now, he’s looking at me with this same unreadable intensity, like he’s waiting for me to fall apart so he can catch the pieces.
When the nurse leaves, the silence between us thickens as we wait for my discharge paperwork.
Riot pushes off the wall and straightens to his full height, which is unfairly tall.His shoulders are unfairly broad.The man is built like a beast in the most attractive ways.My stomach flips in a way that has nothing to do with head trauma, but in attraction.
“You ready?”he asks.
I nod or try to.The movement makes my skull throb.“Yeah.”
He notices instantly.His jaw clenches.“Take it slow.”
I want to snap that I’m fine, but I’m not, and pretending seems pointless at this point.So instead, I accept the steadying hand he offers.The moment our skin touches, something warm shoots up my arm.
A memory I can’t access.An instinct I can’t explain.
His thumb grazes the inside of my wrist, barely there, and it sends a shiver through me.
He feels it too.I can tell by the way his eyes flick to mine, darkening for a split second before he looks away.
He helps me get out of the hospital gown and into some baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt Ally dropped off.Every touch is tender in a way I can’t describe.The nurse brings the discharge papers and offers a ride in the wheelchair out.A ride I decline.If I’m going home, I want it to be on my own two legs.
We move down the hallway, each step a reminder that my legs aren’t quite ready for the world yet.But I’m determined to be stronger than what I’ve lost.Ledger walks beside me, close but not crowding, his hand hovering subtly behind my back like he’s ready to catch me at the slightest wobble.
It should feel invasive.Controlling.Instead, it feels secure.Safe even.
Which is stupid.He’s basically a stranger.We aren’t married or even in a relationship.He’s stranger with a face my body trusts more than my mind does.
