Page 100 of Forbid It

“It’s me,” I tell him, resting my hand on his across his chest. “Jesus Christ.”

“Cass?” His eyes are unfocused, squinting at the sharp overhead lights. “Are you here?”

“I’m here, baby,” I tell him quietly as he’s transferred to a rolling bed. I take his hand firmly in mine, and he squeezes me gently with his thumb.

“Good. That’s good.”

Relief races through me. Whatever happened out there, he seems okay? He’s talking, he remembers me. I allow a tiny sliver of reassurance to fill my aching chest.

“Cass?”

We hurry down the corridor, and I see a waiting ambulance up ahead, the doors and ramp open and waiting.

“Hmm?” I ask.

“Is my leg still there?”

“Huh? Yeah, your leg is still there, baby.”

“‘Is not broken?” he slurs.

I glance down. His legs are as tanned and toned as ever.

“No, Robbie, your legs are okay. Both of them.”

“Good.”

“It’s your head we’re worrying about,” the paramedic says as he’s transferred into the ambulance. The stretcher pulls away from me, but Robbie’s hand stretches as if to hold onto me for longer.

“Are you coming, ma’am?” the paramedic asks.

“Please.”

I take a weary seat on the padded bench as the paramedic hovers over him, setting up various medical equipment that I don’t know anything about.

“Keep him talking if you can,” the medic tells me. “It’s best if he stays awake on the ride to the hospital.”

I nod my head as I take Robbie’s hand again.

“You scared me out there.”

“Hmm.” Robbie’s eyes flutter closed. “Scared myself too, I reckon. I thought my leg was going to go. Are you sure it's okay?”

My mouth dries and I trace the fading scar on his knee. “It looks okay to me.” The ambulance lurches to motion, the siren ringing in the small cab. I gently brush a curl away from his sweaty head, trying not to touch the gauze taped there.

“You’re going to be okay.”

“Did we win?”

I huff a laugh. “I think they can probably survive without you.”

He blows out a breath. “Not as well though.”

I swallow against the lump in my throat. “I wouldn’t survive without you.”

“Hmm,” he says as his eyes flutter closed again.

“Robbie.” I nudge him with my hand, but he doesn’t respond. I glance up at the paramedic but she easily takes over, asking him loud easy questions that escape me.