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“Was anyone else hurt?” I ask, a vague memory of someone walking in the road in front of us hitting me.
“No, sweetie. The only witness was thankfully unscathed and confessed to the whole thing being his fault when he walked out unexpectedly.”
My brows pinch in confusion, because all of this was certainly not some random drunk guy’s fault.
But as she finally excuses herself from my room, I figure that this is how shit works when you’re tied up with the fucking mafia. Murder, extortion and corruption are as everyday as popping to the shop for some milk.
Another of my pained sighs fills the air before I close my eyes.
But I don’t drift off for a long time. I can’t. My head is spinning with thoughts of the barely dressed guy with the broken nose who left not so long ago with his shoulders slumped in defeat.
5
NICO
“What the fuck happened in here?” Toby asks a second after the door to my room opens and heavy footsteps sound out. Although, he stops abruptly when the crunch of broken glass fills the air.
Turning around slowly from the chair I’m sitting on that looks out over the hospital grounds, I scan the devastation that is my room.
Janice is going to have a fucking cow when she comes in and finds it.
I lost my shit. Being sent away from Brianna after seeing her so weak and vulnerable broke something inside me. I had—I have—no idea how to handle it other than to lash out.
I was already barely holding it together when I stepped back in here, and then I caught sight of the flowers sitting on the side and the card that was tucked into the top.
Get well soon.
Mum.
The dark and angry beast that lives inside me, that I’m struggling more and more to contain, just erupted, and the next thing I knew, the room was spinning around me as I clutched the wall for support and everything was trashed. The flowers were strewn across the floor along with smashed glass and water. Everything—furniture and medical equipment—was in disarray, some broken, others just flung across the room in sheer frustration.
How dare she fucking turn up here and drop flowers like it shows she cares?
I, obviously, was asleep. But what about Calli?
Was she sleeping too when the bitch turned up?
I bet she thought all her Christmases had come at once when she realised she didn’t have to deal with us.
Lucky fucking her.
“I’ll go and get something to clean this up,” Toby mutters, not hanging around for a verbal response from me.
He doesn’t need one.
He knows me well enough to be able to read into things. Most of the time, I fucking hate it. But right now, I don’t have the energy to explain or to try and convince him that it had nothing to do with the state I found Brianna in, or the reaction I had to her telling me to leave.
Rejection burns through me. The memory of the resoluteness in her voice cuts through me as if she’s saying the words right now, and I sag back into the chair.
My face and body ache, but the pain of that is easy enough to ignore.
What is going on in my chest, though, hurts in a whole new kind of way that I’ve never experienced before.
Every single inch of me wants to go storming back into the room next door—as much as I’m able to storm anywhere right now—and refuse to leave until she’s told me everything that happened in the lead-up to our crash and I’ve convinced her of how sorry I am.
Although I must admit that right now, fear is dripping through my veins that what I did is going to be unforgivable.
What if I really fucked it up this time?
