“Anyway, I’m going to get home. I’ll see you guys later.” Archer bro hugs us both, then climbs into his cherry-red Mustang—his graduation gift—and drives off.
“You could have warned me about Archer and Theo,” I grumble as we walk towards Cullen’s truck in the back of the parking lot.
“It slipped my mind. He told me while you were in the hospital, so you can imagine it wasn’t on my list of priorities of things to remember.”
Once in Cull’s truck, I fasten my seatbelt and sigh. “I missed an entire month of my life. So much happened and I haven’t bothered to ask anyone about anything.” I lean my head against the window, guilt creeping up behind me for the first time in weeks.
I’ve been working my ass off in therapy, learning to forgive myself for what I did. The first couple of weeks were almost unbearable, full of guilt and self-loathing, and it took a long time for me to actually give myself mercy. Stuff like this, though? It knocks me right back down a peg and lets that shame resurface just a little.
Cull grabs my hand as he navigates out of the parking lot towards the mall. “Don’t do that to yourself, baby. No one expects you to be interested in anything other than getting better right now.”
The first drops of rain splatter across Cullen’s windshield as I consider his words. Within seconds, rain is hammering the windshield hard enough that the road nearly disappears.
“Damnit,” Cull mutters, checking his instrument panel. “My tire light just came on.”
Cullen shifts in his seat, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“Do you feel that?”
Before I can answer, a deafeningbangerupts from somewhere beneath us.
“Fuck!” Cull yells.
The truck fishtails, the back end swinging violently across the wet road.
We hit the curb, and time slows as my side of the truck lifts into the air. Cull and I both shout, and my hand shoots out, bracing against the dashboard. My seatbelt locks against my chest hard enough to steal my breath.
For one endless second, the truck feels weightless before it slams back down onto the pavement.
The airbags explode around us, metal screeching as the truck skids to a stop, leaving only our ragged breathing in the silence.
Chapter eighteen
Hudson
Groaning, I shift my weight to find a comfortable spot in my bed. I have my heating pad on the shoulder I dislocated and a lidocaine patch on my neck. Two Ibuprofen helped with some of the stiffness, but I have a deep ache from being jerked around like a rag doll.
After a quick visit to the emergency room, Cullen and I were diagnosed with some bumps and bruises, plus a broken pinky for Cull, and then sent on our way.
I didn’t even want to go to the hospital, but my mom insisted, worried I may have hit my head again. It was over for me when Mrs. Eliza jumped in, agreeing better safe than sorry.
Cull didn’t even realize he had broken his pinky, too upset about the blown tire and the undercarriage of his truck being fucked. They are waiting to hear how much the repairs will cost to see if it is a total loss.
He loves that truck, but unfortunately, it doesn’t look good.
The accident could have been worse than it was. We could have hit a telephone pole or been thrust into traffic, and because we didn’t, I woke up today grateful to be alive.
It’s been a long time since that meant something to me, and I won’t take it for granted.
I’ve finally found the perfect spot on my mattress when Cull walks into my room.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming by,” I say, scooting over to make room for him to slide in.
He kicks his shoes off and climbs in, wincing as he gets comfortable. He’s still in pajama bottoms and his favorite old t-shirt.
“I missed you, so I had Dad drop me off on his way to work.” Cull snuggles up to me, gently pulling me into his side. “Sorry I didn’t text, it didn’t even cross my mind.” He rests his head on my chest, hunkering down under my comforter.
Nowthisis the perfect spot.
