Chapter 1
Jaxon
My doctor frowned as he looked at the results of my CT scan… the gazillionth one I had since the injury I’d received that ended my entire fucking football career. I knew this scan would be no better than the last, or the one before that, or the one before that. My vision problems were here to stay, as were my headaches, it seemed. Before my head injury, I’d been nearly at the top of my class with straight A’s, always ahead of my work. I’d hardly had to study because remembering things came so easily for me. Now, I was struggling to comprehend simple things, and analyzing anything was a fucking joke without help. And memorization? Fucking laughable.
We’d been playing our biggest rival of the year when I was tackled in the end zone. My head had smacked on the ground so fucking hard, I’d immediately blacked out. There’d been a lot of swelling to my brain, forcing them to put me in a medically induced coma for a week while the doctors waited for the swelling to go down.
Blaze and Hunter, my best friends, and Hunter’s boyfriend, Samuel, had apparently taken turns being by my side so one of them would be there when I woke up, so I wouldn’t be alone. When I’d woken up, it’d obviously been Blaze’s shift because it was him in my hospital room, sitting beside my bed and staring at me like if he stared hard enough, I’d open my eyes for him.
His face had been too pale, his eyes pinched, and his hair, which he normally kept perfectly styled, had been an absolute mess and unwashed.
And he’d been the one to quietly tell me that my chances of playing pro were over because I’d never be able to play football again. I wasn’t even allowed to be on our school’s team any longer because I was fucking useless to them now.
“Not any better, is it?” I asked, my voice dull.
Dr. McManus sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Jaxon, but it’s not.” He looked at me. “It would explain why the headaches aren’t getting any better either.”
I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose. Normally, I wore contacts, but my headache had been so bad that morning that I couldn’t manage getting them in. So, glasses it was. “Is this going to be lifelong?” I asked. It sure seemed like it.
Dr. McManus shrugged. “Possibly. Chances are high you’ll at least deal with the headaches for a few years. Your head injury was very extreme, Jaxon, and it doesn’t help that you’ve suffered concussions previously. But the vision and cognitive issues you’re dealing with… I’d say they’re permanent.”
Permanent.
Who knew the sport I fucking loved would be what destroyed my fucking life?
I stayed silent because I didn’t know what to fucking say. And if I opened my mouth about how I felt at that moment, he’d probably refer me to a goddamn therapist. And I couldn’t handle a therapist right now. It might be the thing that tipped me over the proverbial edge. I was already hanging on by a damn thread as it was.
My sanity felt so fucking frail these days.
“Come back in a month. We’ll do another scan and see if anything has improved,” he said, clapping a hand to my shoulder as he stood from his rolling stool. As if his touch was somehow comforting when, in reality, it just made my fucking skin crawl when I felt so goddamn undone. “In the meantime, just try to take it easy, and don’t overdo yourself. The last thing you want to do is potentially worsen your condition.”
I slipped off the cot with a slow nod, then left the room. After checking out at the front desk and getting the card for my next appointment, I made my way out the door. Shoving my fingers through my dark hair, I scanned the small parking lot for my truck, trying to remember where the fuck I parked it. My short-term memory was absolute dog shit after the hit I’d taken, which was just another cherry on top of the shit sundae I was constantly being spoon fed.
Finally finding it off to the side of the parking lot, I crossed the blacktop, beeping it unlocked before I slid into the driver’s seat. Clenching my hands around the worn steering wheel, I rested my forehead on it and blew out a harsh breath. I just wanted to go back to the apartment I shared with Blaze and sleep, try to forget all this shit I was dealing with for a little while, but I had a class I needed to get to. And while the old me could have skipped and caught up with no issue, this new me—which I fucking detested—could barely keep up anymore, even while I was attending every class religiously, studying hardcore, and paying attention like I never had before.
Gritting my teeth, I shifted my truck into reverse and backed out of the parking stall. When I shifted into first, my truck roared as I pressed onto the gas, and something in my chest loosened.
Nothing soothed me like the sound of my truck rumbling and roaring down the street. It was the one thing I could fucking rely on never changing.
Chapter 2
Blaze
The apartment was quiet when I stepped inside. The television was off, as were all the lights. But I’d seen Jaxon’s truck parked in his assigned parking space, so I knew he was home. Which meant if everything was turned off, he was having a really bad fucking day.
Shit.
Toeing off my shoes by the front door, I flipped the lock, then headed for his room. The door was mostly shut, leaving only a crack, which was his invitation for me to come check on him if I wanted. Since his injury that’d ended his football career and his diagnoses, he’d withdrawn from everyone, including me. But he still did little things like this that told me he still needed me, even if he’d never say it out loud.
I’d never forget when that fucking asshole tackled him in the goddamn end zone. Jaxon had already scored the touchdown. He’d already dropped the fucking ball. And that asshole had tackled him so hard, the entire stadium had gone quiet. I’d almost vomited at the way Jaxon’s head had bounced off the turf. And when the other player had gotten up and Jaxon had not, hadn’t even fucking moved, I’d nearly fucking collapsed as I ran as fast as I could across the field.
Hunter had to stop me from attacking the other player. I’d thrown my helmet aside, ready to fucking brawl, but Hunter had pushed me to the sidelines while we waited for Jaxon’s verdict.
He’d been rushed to the emergency room, and we’d had to continue playing the game like our best friend wasn’t in the hospital by himself. Samuel, Hunter’s boyfriend, had gone for us, to be there for any news or in case Jaxon woke up, but I’d wanted to be there. I was his roommate, his fucking best friend, for fuck’s sake. Still, I’d had to wait. But I’d gone immediately after the game was over, not even bothering to shower.
Shaking that horrible memory from my brain, I pushed open Jaxon’s bedroom door. He was under the blankets on his bed, his fan turned on to blow directly on his face. Only the soft glow of the night light he kept in the room so he wouldn’t fall in the middle of the night offered any kind of light to the otherwise pitch-black room. Jaxon used to keep his curtains open to let in natural light, but when he’d come out of the hospital, he’d had his sheer curtains changed for the darkest black out curtains he could get his hands on, unable to handle the light with all his migraines.
I made my way to his bed and sat on the edge. He slowly peeled his brown eyes open to look at me. The corners of his mouth were pinched with pain, and it made my fucking heart hurt. Jaxon didn’t deserve any of this. Didn’t deserve the constant pain. Didn’t deserve to have his dreams ripped out from under his feet.
