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Christ.
I can’t do it again. I can’t.
My gut clenches.
I must make a sound because Wyatt looks up at me. “Charlie, you okay?”
“No,” I grit out.
There’s a gaping hole in my chest.
“Fuck.” I spear a hand through my hair, keep it there. My voice cracks. “Fuck.”
“Breathe, Charlie,” Davis says sharply. His hand lands on my shoulder.
But I can’t.
I can’t breathe. Can’t think.
The need for her nearly strangles me.
“It’s not your fault, C,” Ford says, reading my thoughts.
“I need some fucking air,” I gasp and rocket out of my chair. I take off down the hall, not stopping until I reach the automatic doors that lead out of the hospital.
I do exactly what I promised Ruby I wouldn’t do.
I run.
I make it as far as the parking lot before I remember Davis has the keys to my truck.
I tilt my head back to the early morning sky. “Fuck.”
A sharp, familiar floats across the air. “I know you’re not leavin’.”
“Fuck off, Wyatt.”
“Get your ass back to the hospital. Now.”
I bend over, hands on my thighs, and gulp air. “I can’t.”
I am a cowboy. I am a man, I am a tough son of a bitch, but goddamn if this pint-sized girl has the power to tear out my soul and rip out my heart.
Wyatt stalks toward me, his stride lethal. “You’re my brother and my best friend, Charlie, but you’re acting like an idiot. What if she wakes up and you’re gone?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Stop.”
One step closer. His voice is like a drill bit in my brain stem. “What if she needs you, and you’re not there because you’re out here having a pity party for yourself?”
I straighten up. My jaw locks. My muscles tense.
“She doesn’t need me,” I shout, whipping around. “I’m the one who got her hurt. I put her right in the middle of everything this summer. She’s better off without me.”
“You’re a coward,” Wyatt says, pointing a finger at me. Anger flashes in his blue eyes, and he shoves me backward. “Asshole.”
“Fuck you,” I growl, balling a fist.
The automatic door slides open, and Ford steps through it. He stands with his arms crossed, watching us. A long-suffering sigh makes its way out of him. “Christ,” he complains. “Y’all aren’t doin’ this.”
