Marnie exchanges a look with someone. It’s hard to tell with everything blurry and wrong.
“Okay,” she says gently. “I’ll call her. But I need you to let me finish examining you first. Can you do that for me?”
I nod even though it makes the room tilt sideways, even though every movement sends pain shooting through my skull, because she’s going to call Juliette and that’s the only thing that matters.
Marnie goes through the concussion protocol while pulling out her phone. Questions I try to answer even though my brain feels likeit’s full of cotton. The ringing is the only sound I can focus on. Once. Twice. Three times.
Please pick up. Please please please pick up.
“Juliette, it’s Marnie.”
My whole body tenses with every muscle coiled tight waiting.
“No, everything’s not okay. Romeo’s been injured.”
I can’t hear what Juliette’s saying. Can only hear Marnie’s half of the conversation and it’s killing me not knowing if she’ll come.
“Pretty bad concussion. I need you to come to the arena.”
Silence that stretches forever. I hold my breath and hold onto the edge of the training table so hard my knuckles go white.
“I know you guys are having issues but he’s really hurt.” Marnie’s voice is careful, measured. “He won’t let me treat him properly. He keeps asking for you. Please. Just, please come.”
Another silence. This one worse than the first because what if she says no? What if she’s so hurt and angry that she leaves me here alone with my head cracked open and everything spinning?
“Thank you. Come to the family entrance. I’ll meet you there.”
Relief hits me so hard I nearly fall off the table. She’s coming. She’s really coming.
“She said yes?” My voice cracks on the words.
“She’s coming.”
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes. Maybe less if she drives fast.”
Twenty minutes might as well be twenty years. But I lie back and try to breathe through the nausea rolling in my stomach, through the pounding in my head, through the desperate need to see her.
Almardon appears at some point, still in his gear with his face tight with worry.
“How you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
“Yeah, you look like it.” He’s trying for light but it doesn’t land. “Juliette’s coming?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He squeezes my shoulder. “That’s real good, man.”
Marnie keeps checking on me. Shining lights in my eyes that make me want to vomit, asking me questions I answer on autopilot, taking notes on her tablet while I count the seconds until Juliette gets here.
Sixty seconds. One hundred twenty. Three hundred.
Every second feels like drowning.
Finally I hear her voice in the hallway. Low and urgent and the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
