“All right, y’all, the OR is ready.” A nurse releases the brake on Billie’s bed. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”
Mrs. Wallace grabs her daughter’s hand. Colt kisses Billie’s cheek again, and Mr. Wallace kisses the top of her head. For a full heartbeat they stay in this pose, a slightly awkward but entirely heartfelt group hug.
Sister, brother.
Mom and Dad.
Seeing the four of them together, a hand grips my windpipe and squeezes. I learned a long time ago that feeling sorry for myself is a useless exercise. I miss my parents. I miss Garrett. I’ll always love them. But I can’t dwell on the fact that I lost them, or the grief will swallow me whole. I can’t walk along the edge of that complete and utter destruction I was talking about.
Goddamn it, though. I’d give anything to be able to hug them one more time.
I’d give anything to be held by them one last time.
The Wallaces step back. Billie turns her head on the pillow, looking up toward me. For a split second, our gazes lock.
A palpable, heavy beat of…something passes between us. Understanding? Shared grief? Delayed shock at the things we said and did tonight? Whatever it is that moves in the small space between her body and mine, it arrows right through my heart.
It hurts.
“Thanks again, Ry,” Billie says.
I blink, struggling for breath. Instinctively my hand goes to my front pocket, my fingertips tracing the outline of Dad’s knife. “Good luck.”
Looking away, I turn and stalk out of the emergency room.
CHAPTER 4
Meet the Wallaces
BILLIE
I stareat the box of toothpicks on my desk, wondering if I really could use them to hold my eyes open. Lord knows I need the help.
I’m beyond wiped. Really, bored out of my goddamn mind. Surely it’s almost quitting time?
Glancing at my laptop screen, I see that it’s 10:02 a.m.
“You gotta be kidding me. What thefuck?”
I remember how fast the time would go when I was in the arena training with Ava. Really, how fast the time would go anytime I was on horseback.
But in the office? I swear to God, time moves backward.
Probably a bad sign, considering it’s my first day back at work since my accident three weeks ago.
I’ve also had some of the worst nightmares the past few nights than I’ve had in a long time. I’ll wake up covered in sweat and gasping for air, just like I used to do when I was little. In one dream, I was being held underwater. I struggled against the hand that held me down, realizing right before I woke up that it wasmyhand that kept me submerged.
It was weird. And more than a little terrifying, if I’m being honest.
“What’s that?” Dad spins around in his swivel chair. His desk is directly behind mine, and his legs are so long that he can almost brush the bottom of my own chair with the toes of his boots. “Your arm botherin’ you again?”
The surgery went well, and while I had a fair amount of soreness right afterward, the pain has gotten much more manageable. Still, it’s a struggle to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Every once in a while, I’ll forget I’m injured and push myself a little too hard, and then I’m back to popping my ibuprofen every four or so hours.
Right now, though, my arm feels fine. Surprisingly I never needed a cast; my doctor just had me wear a heavy-duty brace for two weeks post-op and gave me instructions for exercises that will help improve mobility, so I can eventually get back in the literal and proverbial saddle. Now I just wear a sling whenever I leave the house.
What’s really chapping my ass, though, is being back at my day job. I couldn’t really type after my surgery, so it didn’t make sense for me to work until today, when my doc gave me the all clear. While dealing with a broken elbow is not a walk in the park, I enjoyed the hell out of being away from the office.
Sitting at my desk has been depressing in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I hadn’t realized what a lifeline barrel racing was until I couldn’t do it anymore.
