Page 81 of Serve Me


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I heard Barber’s sobs from behind me, and it was all I could do to keep my composure. My Chelsea, the woman I dedicated my life to, the must for my riding-- the woman I realized I never wanted to let go of ever again-- was lying in a hospital bed for no other reason than happenstance. She was an expert horse rider, everyone knew that.

But nothing can prepare you for an animal randomly turning into a rodeo bronco.

“Can I stay with her?” I asked. I felt Mrs. August look up at me while my eyes connected heavily with Ash’s. I knew her parents would want to stick around the hospital, and I knew there was a good chance she would have many different visitors for the past couple of days. I could already feel Mrs. August tensing underneath my grasp, and I could tell that everything within Ash was about to tell me ‘no’. But, I saw something flash for a split second behind her eyes before she looked around at the people that loved Chelsea August as much as I did, and she took a step closer to me and lowered her voice.

“Don’t let anyone catch you,” she said.

I nodded and pulled Mrs. August away from me before I wiped her tears away.

“Your husband needs ya to be strong for

a little bit. Why don’t you go sit with him, and I’m gonna go get some clothes from my car.”

“You came with a bag?” she asked.

“I always carry clothes with me. Got into the habit in college when-”

I caught myself and the memories I was dredging up. I was about to say, ‘in college when Chelsea traveled the road with me,’ but all it did was bring tears to my eyes before I harshly blinked them away.

“I’ll be right back,” I choked out.

Chapter 10: Chelsea

My head hurt, and my mouth was dry. The smell of disinfectant hung strong in the air, and I honestly felt like I was about to puke. I heard beeping noises and people talking in the distance, but when I panned my head over all those things faded into the background.

“Oh my God, Chelsea.”

His rugged voice hit my ears like waves crashing against the rocks. My soul was desperately dry, and he was wetting my existence. My eyes felt heavy, but his hand descending over mine felt warm and comforting, and I didn’t want to fall back asleep and risk having this moment with him.

“Fl-... -ynn?”

My vision was pounding with my headache, and my shoulder was burning and itching. What the hell was Flynn doing here? I felt something dance along my lips as my eyes fluttered closed, and then I heard that same low voice in my ear.

“Drink. You’ve gotta be thirsty.”

I leaned my head into those pillowy lips, and when Flynn pressed a light kiss to my temple, I knew everything was going to be alright. I wasn’t sure where I was, or how I’d gotten there-- I think-- but Flynn was here, and that always told me everything was going to be alright.

Then, I heard a stampede of people flood the room. It reminded me of those times at the rodeo when the horses came out and competed in the racing tournaments. People were poking me and prodding me, a doctor was peeling my eyes open, and someone else was sticking my feet with something sharp. I heard the beeping in the background speed up, and I felt the vomit rising in my throat.

“Back off,” I heard a voice in the distance.

“Chelsea…?”

“Oh my God, my little girl!”

All the voices melded together, and my ears started to burn. Someone was massaging my aching shoulder, and another person was toggling with something at the back of my head, and when I felt a pinch at the base of my neck, I reared up and heaved all over the side of whatever it was I was laying in.

“I said, ‘back off’!”

I’d know that roar anywhere. Over all the chaos of a place I didn’t recognize and above all the motions that were frightening and foreign, there rose one particular voice I’d always latched onto. I always heard him when he shouted from the rodeo pin, and he always heard me when I would shout back. I felt someone slick my hair back as I continued to vomit all over the side of my bed, and when I was finally done all I could do was sob.

“What's... ha-... happening, Flynn?”

I felt panic waft into my system and, slowly but surely, things began to fall back into place. I remember a horse in a beautiful pasture, and I watched that horse get spooked. I tried to run over to the horse, in my mind, but all of a sudden, I was lying on the ground under the horse.

“Oreo…” I whispered.

“Chelsea, latch onto the sound of my voice.”

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