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Of all the things she could’ve asked, that wasn’t what I’d expected. I stared at her, not sure I’d heard right. The silence dragged between us long enough that she shifted back, clearly uncomfortable and second guessing herself.
That snapped me out of it. “I’m fine.”
Her lips pressed into a tight line. “You smell different. Like… burning tires. Not the way you normally smell.”
Shit. Had my scent changed that much while I was wallowing in all of my recent fuck ups? I took a subtle sniff of the air, and realized that, yeah, under Hazel’s own bitterness, my own scent had shifted as well.
“That means you’re upset, right?” Her hand trembled in mine, and I wished I could make it all better for her. But this wasn’t finding her a band aid when she’d fallen off her bike.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m upset.”
“Why?”
Such an honest question.
I hated that the answer wasn’t a good one. That she’d know how much I’d fucked up.
I gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Because this is all my fault.”
19
Hazel
My head tilted as I tried to figure out what Crew was saying. “How is any of this your fault?”
Seated across from me, Crew looked too big for the hospital bed. His shoulders were wider than the mattress. His long legs were stretched out to my left, and almost hung off the edge of the bed.
His hand tightened around mine, and I reveled in the way his skin felt against me. The rough calluses on his palm told me he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty.
Donovan’s were always soft and slightly damp.
My chest tightened, my pulse thumped heavily as I tried to shove all thoughts of him away. My emotions were too scattered right now to deal with anything but what was right in front of my face. And honestly? I didn’t want to face my own problems just yet.
So I’d settle for tackling Crew’s.
“Hazel, it was me who made the decision not to pull you out immediately when Jude told me there was an omega in trouble.” He looked like he was bracing for me to yell or throw something.
I gasped sharply because—holy shit—how had I gotten so caught up in my own mess that I’d forgotten about Jude? About Logan?
“I know,” Crew murmured, his jaw tight as he looked at a spot over my shoulder. “I’m so sorry?—”
“What?” I cut him off abruptly. “No, Crew, I’m not mad at you. I can’t believe I haven’t asked how Jude is. Is he okay? And Logan? What happened—” My brain started to spin.
No, the room was spinning.
I couldn’t catch my breath, and somewhere in the background an incessant beeping started up.
“Hazel, look at me,” Crew demanded, his tone urgent.
But I barely noticed him trying to pull me back from the edge of a panic attack.
The door behind me slammed open and two people ran into the room.
I ripped my hand away from Crew and tumbled backward over the railing and out of the bed. My hip slammed against the tiles and I cried out, scooting away from the bodies hurrying toward me.
It was like everything was happening in slow motion, but all at once. And there was no way to stop it.
Crew leapt off the bed, and, even knowing it was him, I flinched when he reached for me. Dr. Labine shouted something, and Isla crouched down in front of me with outstretched hands.
