Broken Empire (Boys of Oak Park Prep 3)

My gaze snapped up to his face so fast it made me dizzy.

The room seemed to fall out of focus as he talked, until nothing existed but his lips moving, forming words I couldn’t understand, didn’t want to understand.

My legs.

Not my legs.

“To come out of a car accident like the one you were in with only the injuries you have is pretty miraculous, kiddo.” He dipped his chin, a look of sympathy passing over his features. “You might not feel like it right now, but you’re very lucky, Talia. You’re alive. And you’ll heal.”

An awful heaviness crept through my gut, wrapping itself around the core of me and threatening to drag me under.

I had been here before, propped up in a hospital bed listening to a doctor tell me my legs would heal. And they had… that time. After my dad had pushed me down the stairs at our old apartment complex, I had worked through physical therapy and pushed my body to adapt, to function despite my injuries.

But could I do it again?

“I…” Tears leaked from my eyes, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Doctor Garrett. He looked so calm, so kind. And he had saved my life. So why is he crushing my heart? “I’m… a dancer. Will I be able to…?”

He straightened a little, and I saw him press his lips together as if holding back the first response he’d been about to give. Then he shook his head, reaffixing the calm, patient expression to his face. “It’s really too early to say, Talia. You’re young. You have that going for you. And with careful healing and rehab, I feel confident you’ll be able to walk again just fine. A dance career though… That kind of strain on your body? I can’t make you any promises.”

The tears slipped faster down my cheeks, but I jerked my head up and down to show I’d heard him. I could feel my body now, and even though the pain meds being pumped into my system kept anything from hurting, everything felt wrong.

Wrong.

All wrong.

Doctor Garrett rose to stand again, casting a sympathetic look from me to my grandfather. Through blurry eyes, I saw Philip glaring at him. The doctor had gotten on the older man’s bad side the second he’d said “fuck”, and nothing he’d said since had redeemed him.

“We’ll keep you here for several more days to monitor your progress and run a few more tests,” Doctor Garrett added, patting my arm lightly. “We need to make sure everything is healing well and watch for infection. Then you’ll be able to go home and keep resting up there.”

He turned to leave, and Philip shook his head angrily as he stared at the doctor’s retreating back. He reached a hand out to smooth my hair back from my face, making sure to avoid the bandages at my temple, then pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

I almost jolted, surprised at the warmth of the gesture. I’d only ever hugged my grandpa a few times in my life. But he didn’t seem to give it a thought as he stroked his hand over my hair again and drew back, a frown creasing his features.

“I’m so sorry, Talia. I’ll be back in a moment, all right?”

I nodded, still unable to speak. Philip’s footsteps were heavy as he marched to the door and strode after the doctor. I could hear his raised voice calling down the hallway a moment later. He might not be able to stand up to his wife where I was concerned, but he didn’t seem to have a problem giving hell to other people.

The room fell into silence, broken only by the ragged sound of my breathing, and I was both glad and sad that Philip was gone—that I was alone in this moment.

I stared down the length of my body to my legs and ankles, taking in the outline of what was probably a cast under the blanket. It looked lumpy and ugly, like a monster hiding in wait under the sheets.

The last time I’d danced had been during my audition for the Pacific Contemporary Ballet. I had shown them a piece that had been born out of my heart and soul, and it had felt incredible to fly across the stage under the bright lights, to share that story with an audience.

Had that been the last time I would dance on a professional stage?

The ache in my heart was too big for words or speech to encompass. So I didn’t sob. I didn’t scream or yell. I just stared at my legs as twin tracks of tears fell from my eyes, slipping off my chin and wetting my hospital gown.

“Talia?”

Finn spoke from just inside the doorway, and when I looked over in surprise, he had his bottom lip clenched between his teeth. The other three Princes were gathered around him, having fanned out as soon as they entered the room. They looked like they often did—like a singular force, a group so tight-knit that they functioned as one being with separate bodies. Parts of a whole.

That whole, the entity that was The Princes, had seemed eminently powerful and completely untouchable for so long. As if they could change the world with a snap of their fingers.

But they couldn’t change this.

“Fuck, Tal. Fuck.”

Finn was across the room in three long strides, the others so close behind him that they all reached me at the same time. Despite Doctor Garrett’s list of my injuries, I didn’t know where I was hurt or should feel hurt, but they all seemed to. Finn bent to hug me, keeping his hands well away from any of my bandages or bruises.