Listen, Pitch (There's No Crying in Baseball 3)

My brows rose.

“Wow.” I turned to look at the room. It was dark. I hadn’t realized it until now.

“Anyway, Rhys Rivera has been moved to the end of the hall.”

My entire body jolted.

“What?”

She pointed to a closed door. “Down there. For privacy.”

I found myself walking toward the door she was pointing at without even realizing it.

The moment I got there, I pushed open the door, and nearly fainted.Chapter 9How do you feel when there’s no coffee?

-Depresso

Rhys

Everything felt disconnected from my body.

My eyes were open, but I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t make my hand lift.

Couldn’t do much of anything but stare at the white wall and try to figure out what the hell was going on.

My goddamn mouth would open, but I couldn’t get a freakin’ thing to come out.

I was essentially alive, yet I couldn’t move a single solitary part of my body.

It was the single most awful thing to ever happen to me, and I’d been through a hell of a lot.

I had no idea how long I waited there, screaming in my head for someone to come in and see that I was awake, but couldn’t move.

If there was a torture device that would scare the absolute shit out of someone, this was it.

I’d have to recommend it to my sister.

I wanted to yell. To scream. To do anything to get someone to come inside.

But still, nothing moved.

I’d just about given up hope when I heard something.

A scuff of a shoe? Was someone outside my door?

When the door to my room opened, and a woman appeared, I couldn’t do a damn thing but watch her with my eyes.

She looked familiar.

At first, her eyes didn’t meet mine, so I could do nothing to relay what was going on.

Instead, I studied her face.

I knew instantly who she was.

It was hard to forget that face.

The day that Colder had broken her transmitter, I’d not only gotten my sister to work her magic, but I’d also got a friend to work his.

I wanted to know who my neighbor was, and within the hour, I did.

I’d studied her picture for hours that night after everyone had left after the party.

Henley Diane Cree.

Age: twenty-nine.

Ethnicity: half white, half Native American.

Religion: non-denominational.

Interests: Volunteering, pottery, reading, and gardening.

Graduated from Texas Tech in art. She dropped out of nursing school with passing grades. She worked at the United States Postal Office as a mail sorter, and a mail carrier when or if they needed her.

She was five-foot-three inches, a hundred and twenty-seven pounds, and she had a speech impediment from her hearing loss that she’d suffered from since infancy.

All of these thoughts flashed through my head at a million miles an hour as I watched her enter.

God, she was beautiful.

My hands itched to touch her. To feel that soft skin against my mouth.

She’d probably freak the hell out if she knew the real me, though.

Still, that didn’t stop me from trying to speak to her.

I failed, though.

Nothing worked. Still. Dammit.

Then time stood still as her eyes met mine.

Her mouth fell open, her eyes went wide, and she screamed.

“Holy shit! You’re awake!”

***

“We have you sedated,” the doctor said. “In all actuality, I’m flabbergasted that you’re awake at all. The quantities of drugs we’re pumping into your system is enough to put a horse to sleep.”

I didn’t say anything.

Well, only because I couldn’t.

Because if I had been able to say something, it’d be me yelling at this stupid fool for doing this in the first place.

Why was I being sedated?

“I can see you have questions.”

I let my eyes roll over to the woman that’d been the one to get the doctor. The brunette with her soft green eyes, and her freckled cheeks.

“You were in a motorcycle accident,” she whispered. “They had to do surgery on your brain, and to keep you from doing anything that would hurt yourself, they essentially relaxed your body so that you could heal.”

I blinked twice. No.

Why I could blink and not move the rest of my body, I didn’t know, but I was thankful for the small miracle.

She frowned, then understanding dawned.

“Your DNR?”

I blinked once.

“They didn’t know you had a DNR at first, and since they didn’t have it on hand once they did know, they wouldn’t stop providing you those life saving measures until they did. Your mom took nearly two weeks to get here with it.”

Irrational anger surged through me.

My mother had one job, and one job only. That was to offer the DNR when or if it was ever needed.

Fucking A.

“The moment that the sedative and pain medication wears off, you will no longer be comfortable because you won’t be able to stop yourself from moving. Your head will hurt, and you’ll need to be very careful about any movements until you know how it will affect you.”

I glared at the doctor.

“Dr. Dickerson?” Henley murmured. “Can you give him some more morphine or something to counteract the pain?”