“You think this is my fault? They wouldn’t have been able to mess with her car if she’d been at the house with me.” And that started my mind wandering to all kinds of places, like when had the brakes been fucked with and when?
“No, Tate. You were an asshole but this was going to happen at some point.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I told him and turned my focus to scanning both sides of the road, hoping like hell Teddy’s car wouldn’t be hidden in the dark shadows. I sent a prayer out into the world, pleading that if there was anyone listening, they would make damn sure Teddy was okay.
She had to be.
Chapter 18
Teddy
Before I even woke up, I knew something was wrong. The first thing I noticed was the bleachy, disinfectant scent that told me I was in some type of medical facility like a hospital or maybe an insane asylum. At this point I had no idea. Then I heard the beeps, the whirs, hisses and clicks, all telling me that the pain I felt meant something bad had happened. My eyes wouldn’t open, like lead weights were keeping the lids closed no matter how hard I struggled.
Finally, I gave up and just listened to the sounds of all the machines monitoring everything from my heart rate to blood pressure and even the amount of oxygen in my blood. Between the pain darting all around my body and the number of different sounds all around me, I knew I was hurt. Bad. And as I tried to sit up, the shooting pain in my arm brought it all back to me.
Driving back to the Reckless Bastards hangar with a trunk full of ice, because ice was another thing Tate was supposed to do. Only he’d been off doing who and what the fuck was anybody’s damn guess, and that was how I’d ended up on Interstate 15 at seventy-five miles an hour. The car started to vibrate and then made a kind of burp as I moved over for the next exit, but then Jana called, distracting me. Still, I listened to her excitedly ramble on about all the things she loved about the party, smiling at her over the top happiness.
The car wouldn’t slow down as I turned onto the exit ramp. Pumping the brakes as hard as I could and realizing something was wrong. Telling Jana. Going too fast on the exit and then the asphalt turning to grass and mud. A sharp smack and everything went black.
So I wasn’t dead and this hospital room was my personal hell. I put all of my focus and concentration on opening my eyes. Fucking blinding white fluorescent lights made it hard, but I was determined to get answers and then get the fuck out of this place.
Finally, when my eyes opened, I scanned the room to confirm it was a hospital room and not a torture dungeon. But when I tried to sit up, fiery nails stabbed every inch of my skin.
“Oh fuck!” A string of colorful curses rang out in the empty room as I tried to reach for the call button. Some genius had put it on the same side as the arm snug in a fucking cast.
“Shit, shit, goddammit! Got you fucker.” One finger landed on the call button for about four seconds because that’s all I could handle before the pain intensified.
“Ms. Quinton, you’re awake.”
&n
bsp; Thank you, Captain Obvious. “Yes, can someone tell me what happened?”
“You were in an automobile accident and the police are waiting to speak with you.” The nurse hesitated and I glared, hoping she wasn’t seriously going to put the needs of the police before my own medical needs. “Right. You sustained no significant injuries other than the broken arm and sprained wrist. There are some cuts and bruises and a possible concussion, but all things that will heal in no time. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”
I frowned at the nurse’s retreating back, feeling uneasy and okay, maybe a little scared, too. What else did the doctor need to tell me if I was completely healthy but with a few minor injuries? I felt myself begin to freak out as I reached down to my leg with my good arm, not really relaxed even though I didn’t feel any screws or other damage to my already impaired leg.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry too long. A few minutes later the doctor, a petite woman with long black hair and blunt cut bangs, strolled in with a professional smile. “Hello, Ms. Quinton, I’m Dr. Evans. How are we feeling?”
I sighed, centering myself so I could deal with another medical professional. “I’d prefer it if you just tell me exactly what’s wrong in the simplest way for me to understand. I don’t need false hope and I don’t need my feelings to be spared, Doc.”
Something like pride flashed in her eyes and she nodded at me. “Okay then. Nurse Bellows gave you the highlights, but the most limiting thing will be your arm and maybe the sprained ankle. I’ll give you some painkillers that won’t have a negative impact on the baby, and we’ll monitor you for another night until we’re sure about that concussion.” Dr. Evans’ mouth was still moving but I couldn’t hear her words anymore.
Baby? She said the painkillers wouldn’t negatively affect the baby. A baby? “What baby?”
She frowned for a second, and then her face changed to a more understanding look. “You didn’t know? Based on your hormone levels, you’re about nine weeks along.”
“Nine weeks? How did I not know?” My heart moved up to my throat and I took a deep breath to calm the dizziness in my head. Pregnant? How could I be? Tate? No way. We’d always used protection.
“Life,” she said with a sympathetic smile and a shrug.
“Is the baby okay? Was it harmed in the accident? What do I need to do?” I was freaking out for sure, but this news combined with everything else, was about to push me over the edge. A girl could only take so much.
Dr. Evans smiled and laid a hand on my shoulder. “All you need to do is take your prenatal vitamins, rest and eat better than you’ve ever eaten in your life. Well balanced meals and exercise, once that ankle is healed.”
“Thanks, Doc. I can handle that,” I lied.
“Good. Are you up to speaking with the police, because they’ve been waiting to speak with you.”