Chapter 15
Theo
“Theo.”
Her voice is desperate, making my heart pound as I run up the stairs to find . . . My knees buckle. I grip the railing, but it sags under my weight. My vision whirls, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.
Tiny blue shorts. An ink-covered arm disappearing beneath them. Long, smooth legs writhing on a pale green comforter. Peaked nipples under thin fabric. A low, husky moan.
All the blood in my body rushes south. My mind wars with itself. Get the fuck out of here! But she said my name.
No, I have to get out. One last glance, then I stumble back to leave. But as my feet shift, her eyes snap open and crash into mine.
Everything freezes. The whole world halts like someone hit the pause button.
I’m officially fucked.
The silence pulses around me before her scream shakes the entire cabin.
She hurls something in my direction. As it hits me square in the chest, I realize what it is.
The pink vibrator tumbles to my feet, gives one more faint buzz, then quiets.
For a heartbeat I’m too stunned to move.
Too turned-on to function properly. But then I crouch to grab it—because what the fuck else am I supposed to do—and have to bite back a groan when I find it slick with her arousal.
Fuck me, she’s going to kill me. And that’s fine, honestly. What a way to go.
A loud thud echoes across the room, followed by a tumbling crash. My breath stops as I drop the vibrator and rush around to the side of the bed, only to find her limp on the floor.
Despite the panic flooding my veins, my medical training clicks into place. I kneel and scan her body, making mental notes along the way. Eyes pinched closed. Small line of blood and swelling on her forehead. Lips parted. Lashes fluttering open—
“F . . . Fabes,” I stutter, touching her shoulder lightly. “Are you okay? Where does it hurt?”
She yanks her headphones off and drops them to the floor. “Fuck . . . you,” she mumbles slowly, pressing a palm to her forehead.
“Let me see.” I move her hand away gently to find the trickle of blood running into her eyebrow. I stretch the bottom of my shirt out to catch it. “Did you hit the nightstand?”
“Fuck. You,” she repeats.
Guilt is a heavy weight on my shoulders. I shouldn’t have watched her, even for those few seconds. She’s hurt again because of me. “I know. I’m sorry.” I tilt her chin slightly to check for any other injuries. “I really am, but I need to make sure you’re okay.”
She scowls. “Fuck. You.”
My fingers graze her skin, brushing the hair back from her face. “I think you might have brain damage. You can only say fuck and you.”
Her eyes are the most fiery I’ve ever seen them, but she lets me help her sit up and lean against the bed.
Then she fists the collar of my shirt, and—with a wince—tugs until my ear is an inch from her mouth.
“Fuck you,” she growls, then pushes me back.
Two middle fingers are thrust in my direction. “I hate you.”
Ah, so she remembers other words. I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile. “You’re allowed to hate me, but I’m your best choice right now for a ride to the hospital.”
She scoffs. “Hell no. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I have to take you, Fabes.” It feels imperative. “You hit that nightstand pretty hard. Maybe even blacked out for a second.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” she grumbles, dragging the back of her hand through the blood. “I just bumped my head. It’s nothing.”
My heart stutters at her words. They catch in my brain, sounding all too familiar. Too identical to things I heard Mia say in the past.
The world tilts around me, the energy in the room shifting abruptly. Something squeezes around my throat, fear racing through me. I can’t breathe.
No, no, no. “You . . . you don’t understand.” I swallow, my chest caving in. “I need to . . . I have to . . . make sure you’re okay.” My hands tighten on my knees, knuckles bleached white. “I can’t do nothing. I have to do something.”
Too many times I didn’t know. Every bruise, bump, scratch—for years I did nothing. I can’t do nothing again. I can’t.
Her gaze searches my face. She looks momentarily taken aback before her expression softens. “Theo,” she whispers. “It’s okay.”
“I can’t do nothing.” I don’t know what else to say. Too many thoughts are fighting for space in my head. She’s hurt because of me, and I can’t run away like I did last time. I couldn’t live with myself. I have to fix this the only way I know how.
She seems to hear everything I leave out. Her hands fold around my wrists, fingers against my pulse. My grip on my knees loosens under her touch.
“Okay,” she says softly. Gently. “Let’s go.”
She let me carry her downstairs and watched carefully as I helped her into the flannel I left at her house.
With shaky hands, I buttoned it down to her thighs, then scooped her up again.
That time, she tucked her head against my chest—almost like she knew I needed it—until I got to the passenger side of the truck.
When we arrived at the hospital, they checked her vitals before questioning us separately.
I gave the nurse every detail, probably more than she wanted to know about the room arrangement and shape of the nightstand.
But I need them to have as much information as possible.
There weren’t enough questions asked when Mia was younger.
Not enough people searching for details.
So I told the nurse everything.
“I need her to be okay,” I said, dragging a shaky hand through my hair.
The older woman’s eyes creased with a smile. “She’s okay. I promise.”
Now, I watch through the glass as Fable sits cross-legged on the hospital bed, talking and laughing with Vivian. She looks all right—just a small bandage beside her hairline—but that hospital band around her wrist has guilt gnawing at my stomach lining.
I should’ve left the second I found her. After my workout, I came over to ask if she wanted to help me coach soccer. When she didn’t answer the door, I opened it, and as soon as I heard her call my name—
The scrape of the glass door startles me. Vivian steps out and gives me a hug—a long, knowing hug, like my emotions are written all over my face.
“She’s okay,” she whispers. “You did good.”
An ache burns in my throat. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
She pulls back and turns to watch Fable down the rest of her cup of water. “You should watch out for nausea or vomiting, dizziness, confusion. Anything out of the ordinary, really. But other than that, she should be totally fine.”
“Got it,” I confirm as Fable shuffles out, my flannel swallowing her frame and two little disposable hospital shoes on her feet. “I’ll keep a close eye on her.”
Fable tips her head toward me, her nose ring glinting under the hospital lights. “And I’ll keep a close eye on him.”
A silent conversation passes between them. Then Vivian gives her a hug, whispers something I can’t make out, and waves her goodbyes.
“Sorry I forgot to grab your shoes.” I set my hand on her lower back as we walk toward the exit. “Want me to carry you?”
She gives me a look. “I let you carry me in. I think I can walk myself out.”
“Sorry,” I say again.
The automatic doors slide open, and Fable loops her arm through mine. “Don’t be. It was very knight in shining armor of you.”
“No more scoundrel in ugly scrubs?” A warm breeze brushes against my cheeks, and I draw in a deep breath. Let it out slowly.
She pats my forearm. “Not tonight.”
Once she’s settled into the passenger seat, I stand in the open door, my heart beating an unsteady rhythm from the last couple of hours.
Swallowing around the heavy lump in my throat, I whisper, “I’m sorry.
I was excited to tell you something and burst in your door.
Then I heard my name and ran upstairs, and fuck.
I should’ve turned around immediately. I know I should’ve, but you were so .
. .” I swallow thickly. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I never would’ve wanted that, and—”
“Theo.” Her hands bracket my cheeks, and my words stop. She pulls me toward her, and I lean into the cab, planting my hands beside her thighs. Her palms are warm. Her scent fills my lungs. Calms my mind.
With only a few inches between us, her eyes hold me captive—firm and soft at the same time. “I’m okay. You’re okay.”
My jaw tenses. “You got hurt because of me.”
She shakes her head, adamant. “You didn’t hurt me. You would never hurt me.”
I breathe in the words. Try my best to let them soak through to my bloodstream. The ache in my chest loosens a little.
Her thumbs glide in a slow caress over my cheekbones, and her lips curve up in a small grin. “Now, I could really use some dinner.”