Rolling out my neck only releases a groan. Bull’s sharp bark in response drawing my pitying gaze back down to him. “I know, boy.” My muscles could use a bath, but I fear I’m too tired. The exhaustion like cement in my limbs.
The warmth of the water would only pull me into a coma-like sleep. Drowning is just one more issue none of us needs today.
Stripping out of my clothes seems like the most arduous task. Our boys watch me with sad expressions. Droopy eyes tracking my every movement as if worried I may topple over myself. I might. I feel lost without having Gray here, and I hate that feeling.
Being dependent on a man makes me too much like the woman I’ve been told I should be. Not only from the men who have paraded through my life in the professional setting, but my family, too. I should have picked a less trying specialty, they all say. One that protected my hands and my time. But it was okay to be an OB/GYN and deliver babies because women bring them into the world anyhow.
Anger bubbles in my chest. Mostly at them, but also at myself for allowing Gray to nestle so deeply into my heart that I can’t be without him.
“Gray, you better live,” I whisper to the wet shower wall.
Chapter 22
Grayson
Irarelyrequireanalarmto wake me. After years of rising at the same time, unless I was drunk the night before, my body’s internal clock knows when it’s time to get moving.
There’s an incessant beeping that can only be my alarm, and I just want it to turn the fuck off. My eyes scrunch tighter against the persistent noise. Still, the dim light that fills the room is just as bright behind my pinched eyelids.
I must have gone hard after the rodeo. My head throbs, and the post-events memories are fuzzy. I remember the anger with Tate and the beaming smile River gave me before I climbed on that nasty bull. I recall the ride. It had been…
That dismount. The slam into the wall. River’s screams as she tried to get to me.
I couldn’t get up.
I promised her I would always come home to her.
With a groan, I fight to open my eyes now, hoping she’ll be right there.
It’s a struggle to obey. The weight of my eyelids like stones used to build the pyramids. They’re just little pieces of skin. How could they be so hard to open? Then I realize where I must be.
The hospital.
The beeping is the monitoring machine checking my vitals.
I drag in a deep breath, my body screaming in agony against the forced expansion. The exhale, just as painful.
“Gray,” I hear my name whispered. And suddenly I don’t have the urge to open my eyes.
I don’t want to see the expression painted on my brother’s face when I open them. Doesn’t matter what it is. He’s not the one I want at my bedside.
If River isn’t here, I know it’s for a good reason. My injuries wouldn’t have scared her away. She’s not the type. This is her area of expertise. Yet, I can’t help but wonder if she, too, won’t want to see me like this. If she’ll wonder if this is the future she is shackling her life to.
“Ri…” I try to force her name past my lips, but my throat is dry. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as if thick cotton has tangled around it. “Ri…” I try again.
“Shh. Don’t try to talk. She’s home.”
Something in my chest explodes. Tate said she was home. Not working. Not getting coffee or in the bathroom. But home. Maybe my fears hold legitimacy.
“Ri… Where?” I croak. My eyes still won’t open, and I don’t want them to.
The weight of my brother’s large palm settles on my shoulder. Though the touch is soft, I’m sensitive enough his palm is like an elephant I can’t shake off.
“Joy took her to your house. She’ll likely be back in a few hours. I’ll call her and tell her you’re awake.”
“Tell… Love… Her.” My throat burns with the effort of those three words.
“I’m not telling her that, but you will once you’re up.”
