of me. I feel as if I’ve swallowed sandpaper, and I’m dizzy to the point of wanting to knock myself out again, just so I don’t have to deal with the mind-fuck.
I gotta say, waking up from a coma kinda tops my list of weird experiences in life. Well, that, and being bitten by one of Australia’s deadliest spiders, having my car totalled by a tiny redhead, and waking up to find my ex-fiancé keeping watch beside my hospital bed. I catch sight of her standing against the wall, out of the way of the swarm of hospital staff that are milling around checking vitals, taking blood.
Hi , she mouths with a sad smile.
The corner of my mouth turns up in about as much of a smile as I can muster. I blink, and when I open my eyes again a smoking hot doc is shining her little penlight in my face, and ordering the nurse beside me to have someone run a CT scan. There’s a million different wires running from all parts of my body, tubes and electrodes, and all I want is to have them off, have them out of me.
“Sir, I’m Dr Ryder, can you tell me your name?” the doc asks.
“J …” I begin, and have to clear my throat because it hurts like a motherfucker. “Jackson Rowe.”
“Good. Do you know where you are, Jackson?”
“Holly,” I grunt as the doc flashes the light in my eyes again, and has me follow her fingers. “Where is she?”
“Mr Rowe, you’re in the hospital—”
“Yeah, no shit.” I lift my arm to pinch the bridge of my nose, but several different wires get tangled up, and I yank at them in frustration before the Doc places her hand on my bicep and eases it back down on the bed.
“I know this must be very disorientating for you, Mr Rowe. I’ll try to make this brief. Do you remember what brought you here?”
“Yeah, a big, fucking-scary spider,” I say, and watch as the doc processes my anger. I flop my head back against pillow, which makes it hurt even more, and decide to play nice, despite the panic rising like bile in my gut. “The redhead that totalled my car. She was pregnant. Where is she? Did the baby make it?”
Chelcie moves closer to the bed, and places her tiny hand over mine. “Holly was released this afternoon.”
“I have to see her.” I sit up, and attempt to pull the IV from my wrist. Doc looks like she’s about to pitch a fit. She starts harping on about me moving too soon, and how they won’t hesitate to restrain me if they have to, and then she stomps her expensive-looking shoes out into the corridor to bark orders at more people.
My aching head begins spinning, so I don’t struggle when the nurse eases me back against the pillow. I don’t have the strength. I just pray like hell that they’re not lying. I silently plead with Chelcie, even though I shouldn’t. Even though I know she’s still not over our break-up, even though I know it hurts her to see me like this over Holly. I feel like an arsehole, but I have to know if Hols is okay, and I know Chelcie would never lie to me.
“Jack, Holly’s fine. You need to concentrate on you right now.” She smiles, but it’s full to bursting with sorrow. I know she’s trying not to let it bother her, but I also know Chelcie. If you’ve ever broken someone’s heart—really torn it to shreds, and hate yourself for it—then you’ll know how I feel when I look at her. I wish it had been enough. I wish I’d wanted the same things she wanted.
I nod, but even that hurts. Closing my eyes, I turn my palm up on the mattress. Chelcie places her hand in mine, and I squeeze it as tightly as I can muster. “What are you doing here, Chelc?”
“Making sure you didn’t kick the bucket without saying goodbye.” She laughs, but then her expression turns into a tight-lipped grimace. “I called your house when I didn’t hear from you on Saturday. You scared the crap out of me, Jack.”
I give her a lazy smile. “Sorry.”
She squeezes my hand. “So, what’s going on with you and the pretty redhead? She’s awfully young,
I gotta say, waking up from a coma kinda tops my list of weird experiences in life. Well, that, and being bitten by one of Australia’s deadliest spiders, having my car totalled by a tiny redhead, and waking up to find my ex-fiancé keeping watch beside my hospital bed. I catch sight of her standing against the wall, out of the way of the swarm of hospital staff that are milling around checking vitals, taking blood.
Hi , she mouths with a sad smile.
The corner of my mouth turns up in about as much of a smile as I can muster. I blink, and when I open my eyes again a smoking hot doc is shining her little penlight in my face, and ordering the nurse beside me to have someone run a CT scan. There’s a million different wires running from all parts of my body, tubes and electrodes, and all I want is to have them off, have them out of me.
“Sir, I’m Dr Ryder, can you tell me your name?” the doc asks.
“J …” I begin, and have to clear my throat because it hurts like a motherfucker. “Jackson Rowe.”
“Good. Do you know where you are, Jackson?”
“Holly,” I grunt as the doc flashes the light in my eyes again, and has me follow her fingers. “Where is she?”
“Mr Rowe, you’re in the hospital—”
“Yeah, no shit.” I lift my arm to pinch the bridge of my nose, but several different wires get tangled up, and I yank at them in frustration before the Doc places her hand on my bicep and eases it back down on the bed.
“I know this must be very disorientating for you, Mr Rowe. I’ll try to make this brief. Do you remember what brought you here?”
“Yeah, a big, fucking-scary spider,” I say, and watch as the doc processes my anger. I flop my head back against pillow, which makes it hurt even more, and decide to play nice, despite the panic rising like bile in my gut. “The redhead that totalled my car. She was pregnant. Where is she? Did the baby make it?”
Chelcie moves closer to the bed, and places her tiny hand over mine. “Holly was released this afternoon.”
“I have to see her.” I sit up, and attempt to pull the IV from my wrist. Doc looks like she’s about to pitch a fit. She starts harping on about me moving too soon, and how they won’t hesitate to restrain me if they have to, and then she stomps her expensive-looking shoes out into the corridor to bark orders at more people.
My aching head begins spinning, so I don’t struggle when the nurse eases me back against the pillow. I don’t have the strength. I just pray like hell that they’re not lying. I silently plead with Chelcie, even though I shouldn’t. Even though I know she’s still not over our break-up, even though I know it hurts her to see me like this over Holly. I feel like an arsehole, but I have to know if Hols is okay, and I know Chelcie would never lie to me.
“Jack, Holly’s fine. You need to concentrate on you right now.” She smiles, but it’s full to bursting with sorrow. I know she’s trying not to let it bother her, but I also know Chelcie. If you’ve ever broken someone’s heart—really torn it to shreds, and hate yourself for it—then you’ll know how I feel when I look at her. I wish it had been enough. I wish I’d wanted the same things she wanted.
I nod, but even that hurts. Closing my eyes, I turn my palm up on the mattress. Chelcie places her hand in mine, and I squeeze it as tightly as I can muster. “What are you doing here, Chelc?”
“Making sure you didn’t kick the bucket without saying goodbye.” She laughs, but then her expression turns into a tight-lipped grimace. “I called your house when I didn’t hear from you on Saturday. You scared the crap out of me, Jack.”
I give her a lazy smile. “Sorry.”
She squeezes my hand. “So, what’s going on with you and the pretty redhead? She’s awfully young,
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