Chapter 46
Fable
No. No, no, no, no.
Everything happened so fucking fast.
One second, I was right there with him, watching through my camera as he settled onto the bull, his body a perfect balance of tension and control. His thick thighs clenched around the animal, his arm lifted high as the chute burst open.
The next—he was gone.
Bucked off.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him take a fall. I’d watched him train, seen countless rides in my research end in the dirt. My breath caught, my fingers digging into the steel railing in front of me, but my heart was still beating steadily.
Until he didn’t move.
My grip on the camera slipped. My body locked up. My eyes didn’t blink, couldn’t blink, as I stared at him, motionless in the dirt.
Get up. Get up and move, you stubborn ass.
The bullfighters rushed in, waving their hands, trying to get the bull’s attention. My pulse pounded, too fucking loud in my ears.
The bull reared up, powerful hind legs kicking at nothing before its massive hooves came down.
One of them—
Oh, God.
One of them landed square on his helmet.
A sickening crack rang through the air.
The entire crowd gasped as if the arena had lost all its oxygen in a single breath.
I couldn’t breathe.
The sound, the weight, the sheer force of it.
His body jerked from the impact, but he still didn’t move.
He wasn’t moving.
He wasn’t fucking moving.
The buzzing in my ears grew louder. Everything blurred. The bright lights, the medics sprinting toward him, the bullfighters waving the animal off—it was too slow.
This wasn’t normal.
This wasn’t a rough fall.
This was wrong.
“Fable.” Harleigh’s voice barely registered.
She was talking—I could see her lips moving, her hands reaching for me—but the words weren’t landing.
“—bad . . . move . . . breathe, Fabs . . . he’s—”
I was going to be sick.
No. No, no.
My chest seized, my stomach twisted violently, and suddenly the shark cage around me felt like it was closing in.
“Get me out of here.”
I choked on the words, slammed my palms against the metal, fisted the bars.
“Get me out, get me out, get me the fuck out!”
I needed out. I needed to get to him.
The door had barely popped open before I ran.
I sprinted through the dirt, my boots slipping, my legs burning, but my vision was locked as I ran behind the chutes.
Please, please, please—
As I skidded to a stop, my stomach plummeted.
The ambulance doors were already shutting.
No.
A pair of strong hands clamped down on my shoulders, stopping me before I could run forward, before I could—
I collapsed into them, my chest heaving, my mind screaming.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
Beau.
I blinked up, barely registering the strong grip still holding my shoulders.
“You must be Fable.”
I dragged my eyes up, meeting the same dark brown gaze I’d stared into a thousand times—only older.
Beau’s dad.
The long, unkempt hair, the sharp cut of his jaw, the broad shoulders—he was him.
Or Beau was him.
My throat was thick with too many emotions to name. I tried to say anything, but the words wouldn’t come.
“He’s conscious.”
I nodded.
“They’re taking him to the hospital right now. Arm’s probably broken, but he’s conscious.”
A pause.
“You wanna come?” His voice softened. “I think he’d like it if you were there.”
The hospital.
I staggered back like he’d hit me. My breath shuddered.
I could still hear it—machines beeping, fluorescent lights buzzing, and the low murmurs of nurses.
The place that stole my parents. The place that had stolen . . . me. The place where I begged and pleaded, waiting for a miracle that never came.
I couldn’t go back. I could barely go to a doctor, sticking with telehealth if I ever got sick, so stepping into a hospital again seemed impossible.
My pulse hammered, my lungs squeezed, my vision tunneled.
A warm hand grabbed my arm. “Thank you, Mr. Banks.” Harleigh’s hand. “We’ll go separately.”
I turned to her, my lips parting, but she squeezed my arm tighter, her blue eyes locking onto mine like she knew I was seconds from breaking.
Harleigh nodded, guiding me farther away from the arena, away from the noise, away from the energy that felt like it was suffocating me. The sirens still echoed in my ears, even as the sound faded into the night, and I couldn’t tell if they were real anymore—or stuck inside my head.
“I-I—”
“I know.” Her voice was gentle, her hand rubbing slow circles against my back, keeping me tethered. “What do you feel?”
I looked at her, desperate, lost, drowning.
My mouth opened. I didn’t know.
“The air,” I murmured, realizing we were finally outside.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Breathe, Fable. Just breathe.
“What do you see?”
I blinked, forcing my eyes to scan my surroundings. “Cars. Lots of them in the parking lot.”
“Good,” she said, encouraging me. “What do you smell?”
I inhaled, my nose wrinkling instinctively. “Bull shit.”
She let out a small laugh, nudging me. “Yup, me too.” Her fingers tightened around mine. “Come on, let’s get to the car.”
I nodded, letting her guide me across the lot. I had driven up with Beau earlier, but Harleigh had come with Dalton.
As soon as we were inside, she started the car and headed toward the main road, but the moment the hospital sign came into view, my chest tightened like a vise. My skin crawled, my breath hitched. It felt like tiny insects were burrowing beneath my flesh, writhing, multiplying.
I was dirty.
I was contaminated.
I was unworthy.
I had worked so hard to get better, but hospitals weren’t safe. I wasn’t strong enough to go back.
My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my palms, trying to anchor myself against the feeling that I was slipping, spiraling, shattering into nothing.
Mike’s voice was there, in the back of my head, slithering through the cracks. Worthless.
My chest heaved, the air coming too fast, too shallow. I was drowning in it.
The moment we pulled up to the hospital entrance, it all snapped.
“No,” I screamed. “I can’t— I can’t go in there.”
“You’re okay.” Harleigh’s voice cut through the panic, but I barely heard her over the roaring in my ears. “Fable, you’re okay.”
I couldn’t.
I wasn’t safe.
“I—” My voice cracked, my hands shaking violently in my lap. “Harleigh, I can’t go in there.” I squeezed my eyes shut as if that would make the world outside disappear. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
The hospital was right there. Beau was inside, but I couldn’t go in.
Because hospitals meant I lost myself.
Hospitals meant I wasn’t a woman anymore.
Hospitals meant I was nothing.
I choked out a sob, my whole body shaking.
“My parents died in a hospital.”
I was just a kid in college, barely an adult, and in an instant, I had no family left.
Mike caught me when I crumbled and whispered empty reassurances. He soothed the unbearable ache that bloomed in my chest, the hollowed-out space where my parents had been. He didn’t heal me though; he made sure I stayed broken in a way that benefited him.
“A part of me died in a hospital too,” I whispered, my hands trembling as I wrapped my arms around myself.
“I know,” Harleigh murmured, pressing firmly on my shoulders. “It’s okay. We don’t have to go in yet.”
“But he’s in there,” I gasped, my vision blurring. “I need to see him. I have to— I have to know he’s okay—” My breaths were coming in rapid bursts, too fast, too shallow.
Harleigh’s phone buzzed in her lap, and she snatched it up immediately.
“It’s Dalton,” she said quickly. “Beau’s conscious. His arm’s broken, but he’s okay.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my pulse hammering so loud it was deafening. He was breathing.
Why couldn’t I?
“I think I’m dying,” I whimpered, gripping my chest, pressing against the panic like I could hold myself together if I pushed hard enough. “I can’t— I can’t breathe. I think I’m dying, Harleigh—”
She grabbed my face between her hands, pressing her forehead against mine. “You are not dying.”
“I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m—”
Harleigh’s hands were on me, her voice steady, but I couldn’t hear her.
I was unclean.
I was nothing.
The world blurred, tilted, and everything went black.