“I just need a minute.”
He dips his chin in acknowledgment and pats the doorframe. He hesitates—searching for the right words—but there aren’t any, so he walks out, leaving me to the maelstrom of emotions going through me.
My mom died because of me. My dad essentially died because he couldn’t handle life without her, which again, comes back on me. He died alone. That one’s my fault, too. And Briar. If I hadn’t insisted on going upstairs. If I had walked away from Jackson, instead of letting my rage control me, she wouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come back. And if I stick around much longer, I’m sure it will be too late for her, too.
Dash and Natalia are waiting on me. Briar’s fucking waiting on me. My father is waiting on me. I don’t want to face any of them, and stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced is the urge to bolt. I can’t fucking be here. I feel like I can’t breathe. My pulse hammers in my ears, and the room spins around me. Bending over and bracing my hands on my knees, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to suck in air, to no avail. I can’t get enough into my lungs.
I need out. Out of this room. Out of this hospital. Out of this town. Then, maybe I’ll be able to breathe again.
Chapter 14
Briar
My head is pounding. That was my first thought when I woke up in an ambulance, followed closely by how did I get here? Dash explained what happened, and slowly, the events of the last hour started coming back in pieces. Fighting. Lots of fighting. Lots of revelations. More fighting. Whitley pulling me backward by my hair. Then, darkness.
Once we got into the room, the nurse took my vitals and helped me change into a hospital gown before the doctor came in to examine me. Now, besides having a splitting headache, I feel fine. I want to get out of here so I can talk to Asher—privately—about everything that went down. I can’t wrap my mind around everything that came out tonight.
The door slowly creaks open, allowing a sliver of light into the room, followed by a light knock.
“Bry?” my brother asks.
“Come in.”
Dash and Nat step in with uncharacteristically long faces.
“Whoa, who died?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood, but they don’t laugh. They share a look that sends my heart free-falling to my feet.
“Are you okay?” Nat asks, changing the subject. She comes to sit on the bottom of the bed next to me and brushes my hair out of my face to assess the damage.
“I’m good,” I say, looking between them. “Did something happen?” Natalia looks up to Dash for permission, and that right there tells me that it’s bad. Since when does she defer to him? Or anyone, for that matter? Dash shakes his head.
“Tell me,” I demand. “Is it Asher? Is he okay?”
Dash’s nostrils flare, and I don’t even care to have the good sense to be sensitive to the fact that he just found out that his little sister and his best friend have been
sneaking around behind his back.
“He’s fine, but his dad died tonight.”
My hand flies to my mouth, and I feel my eyes welling with tears. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, needing to find him.
“Where is he?” I ask, hopping down. “I need to be with him.”
“Hell no, sis,” Nat says, pushing me back toward the bed. “I get it. I do. But you need to make sure you’re okay before you go saving someone else.”
“She’s right. Besides, he said he’ll be here. He just needed a minute to wrap his brain around everything.”
I reluctantly agree, sitting back and pulling the cover over my freezing legs—why are hospitals always so cold, anyway? But somehow, I know Asher isn’t coming. I can feel it in my bones.
The doctor walks back in, stopping to wash his hands at the sink. “So, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?” he says by way of greeting.
“Good,” I answer, because I’m not sure how much more bad I can handle in one night.
“Well, the good news is that you’ll be fine. Slight concussion. No need for a CT scan or anything like that since you weren’t unconscious very long and you’re not having any prolonged amnesia. It’s been about two hours since you got here, so we probably would’ve noticed by now if things were going to take a turn for the worse.”
I nod, relieved.
“And the bad news?” Dash asks, arms folded across his chest.