Chapter 38 Violet
VIOLET
I stumble hard when Rhett shoves me up onto the grass, almost slipping back into the road. I have just enough time to whip my head around before there’s the sickening sound of metal hitting something.
The something is Rhett, the car plowing right into him. He’s knocked off his feet and lands hard in the road, just a few feet away, but I see it when his head bounces off the pavement.
“Rhett!” I scream, the cry leaving my throat raw.
“Fuck,” Sawyer bursts out, and we all go running toward him.
Lennox moves into the center of the road, holding up his hands to keep any cars from coming that way, and Sawyer and I go to Rhett’s side. I’m down on my knees in a second, hands coming up to his face. His eyes are closed, and there’s a cut bleeding profusely on his forehead.
“Rhett.” I pat his face gently. “Rhett, please. You have to wake up.”
There’s the sound of a door slamming, and the driver who hit him comes running over to us.
“Oh my god,” he bursts out. “I’m so sorry. Holy shit. I was trying to get out of the way, but I couldn’t get any traction. I’m so fucking sorry? Is he okay?”
None of us really respond to him, focused on Rhett.
“Come on, man,” Sawyer says, shaking his brother lightly. “Wake up.”
I can feel tears gathering in my eyes, and I look at Sawyer. “Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s breathing,” Sawyer replies. “So you know, that’s the good news. But if he doesn’t wake up, we’re going to have to get him out of the road.”
“And to a hospital,” Lennox says, coming over. “We can’t do this here.”
A sob builds in my throat, and I clench my hands in Rhett’s sweater. My stomach cramps with worry, my heart pounding. He has to be okay. He just has to be.
Then Rhett groans softly, and my eyes snap back to his face. “Rhett?”
“What… what’s happening?” he asks, words slurring together.
“Thank fuck,” Sawyer exhales.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Lennox tells Rhett.
He shakes his head and then winces. “No. No hospital. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you sound totally fine,” Sawyer says.
“Leave it, Len,” Rhett says, and Sawyer snorts.
“I’m Sawyer, idiot. We’re taking you in.”
Between the two of them, they get Rhett up out of the road and back to where we parked.
There’s already a crowd of onlookers gathering, people from the diner and people who were walking by or parking their cars, and we move quickly through them, waving away offers of help.
I pull the door to the backseat of the jeep open, but when Lennox and Sawyer go to help him inside, it jostles his arm, and Rhett curses, low and deep.
“What hurts?” I ask, immediately worried.
“My arm,” he hisses. “Feels like it’s sprained.”
“Or fucking broken,” Sawyer mutters. “You hit the ground hard.”
“And there’s blood all over his face,” I add, still so concerned.
“They’ll patch him up at the hospital,” Lennox says. “We just have to get him there.”
I have to admire how calm and collected he is in a crisis. It’s obvious he’s worried, but instead of wasting time fretting about what’s happening, he’s keeping things moving, taking over ushering us along without invalidating our feelings or getting angry that I’m freaking out.
I wish I could be cool-headed like that.
I keep a hold of Rhett’s good hand as we drive to the hospital, watching as Rhett goes in and out of consciousness. His head lolls to one side, but he snaps awake a second later, frowning around him like he has to remember where he is.
I squeeze his hand, my heart in my throat.
As soon as we pull up to the hospital, Lennox and I get Rhett out while Sawyer goes to park the car. We rush to the ER, and I start explaining to the nurse behind the desk what happened.
“Does he have a concussion?” she asks me.
“I’m not sure. He’s been in and out, and it looks like he’s forgetting where he is? He just seems disoriented.”
She eyes the wound on his head and the way he’s holding his arm and nods.
“We’ll take him right back.”
She calls something in over a PA system, and someone comes around with a wheelchair a minute later. They bundle Rhett into it and then wheel him down the hall.
I know he’s safe here, but something about him not being in my sight anymore makes my anxiety spike something awful.
Before I can start to spiral, Lennox takes my hand and pulls me over to the waiting area to sit down.
“They’ve got him,” he murmurs to me. “He’ll be fine.”
Sawyer comes in and we tell him what happened.
“Nothing to do but wait, I guess,,” he says, settling in on my other side in one of the uncomfortable chairs.
A few minutes later, a nurse comes out. “Are you all here with Rhett Sullivan?” she asks.
I’m on my feet in a second. “Yes. Is he okay?”
“We’re still checking him over,” she says kindly. “Are you family?”
“I’m his brother,” Lennox says, striding forward.
“Oh, good. We need someone to fill out some forms and answer some questions.”
“I’ll do it.” He turns to Sawyer and gives him a look, and whatever Sawyer sees there makes him nod.
I sit back down heavily, resigned to the fact that there’s nothing more we can do but wait.
It feels bad though. There’s a heaviness in my chest, and every time someone comes around the corner, my heart leaps, wondering if it’s going to be a doctor or nurse with news.
Whenever they go on their way, not so much as glancing at Sawyer and me, my heart sinks again.
“Is this one of those situations where no news is good news?” I ask Sawyer, looking up at him.
“It’s always hard to say,” he admits. He takes my hand, holding on to it tightly, and I squeeze back, trying to take comfort in his closeness.
“I just wish… I don’t know. I wish I hadn’t suggested coming here today.”
“Hey,” he says. “Don’t do that. We were all on board, and you had no way of knowing. This isn’t your fault.”
I nod, knowing he’s right, but it’s hard to make my brain hold on to that thought when it’s trying not to spiral with worry.
“Violet,” Sawyer says firmly, turning to face me in his chair.
“Rhett’s going to be fine. He’s a big, strong guy, you know?
You’ve seen him out there, swinging that axe around chopping wood.
Being a little banged up isn’t going to stop him for long.
The real problem is going to be getting him to agree to take it easy while he heals. ”
“You’re probably right.”
“I’m definitely right. When he was eleven or so, he broke his leg riding his bike down that big hill on the edge of town. You know the one I mean?”
I nod. “Behind Mrs. Foster’s house, right?”
“That one. So you know how steep it is. He went flying down that hill at full speed and hit a rock or something in the road. Sent him right over the handlebars of the bike, and he landed at a really bad angle. Had to be in a cast for weeks. He was such a fucking insufferable patient. Mom and Dad kept having to threaten to have me and Lennox hold him down on the bed because he tried to walk everywhere when he was supposed to be resting.”
I smile because I can picture that so clearly. Rhett’s always been headstrong, and he hates being idle when there are other things he could be doing.
“Why did he even do that?” I ask Sawyer. “No offense, but riding a bike down a big hill seems like more of a you thing to do than a Rhett thing.”
Sawyer breaks out into a grin. “Because I dared him to.”
“Wow.”
“Don’t think he let me forget it either. I think I heard about how I was the reason he broke his leg for the next three years. But the point is he was fine. Stubborn and annoying as hell, but totally fine. He’s even hardier now than he was then.”
I take a deep breath, wrinkling my nose at the sterile hospital smell. I’ve always hated the way they cover up the smell of death and illness with bleach and cleaners, because it doesn’t really do much to hide what hospitals are usually for.
I feel more steady now, at least.
Sawyer keeps a hold of my hand and keeps telling me stories about him and his brothers when they were younger.
Some of them I know from knowing them for so long, but Sawyer has a way of telling stories that makes them feel new and hilarious all over again.
Soon enough I’m giggling into my free hand, feeling much lighter than I did when we arrived.
Before long, a doctor comes out and comes over to us, and all the progress I made calming down is immediately erased.
“Are you here with Rhett Sullivan?” he asks.
We both get up at the same time. “We are,” Sawyer replies. “Is everything okay?”
The doctor smiles, and the icy vise around my heart eases up. “He’s going to be fine. We have to admit him so we can monitor for a concussion, but you can go back and see him now if you’d like.”
“Thank you,” Sawyer says.
We get Rhett’s room number, and the two of us make our way there quickly.
Rhett’s sitting up in the hospital bed when we walk in, and Lennox is sitting in a chair off to the side.
It’s a relief to see Rhett with his eyes open, and he smiles when we walk in.
“There you are,” he says. “I couldn’t find you.”
“Because we weren’t in here, dummy,” Sawyer says, but even that is edged with fondness. “Glad you’re all in one piece.”
“How many pieces would I be in?” Rhett asks.
Lennox snorts. “They’ve got him on painkillers while they wait to see what’s going on with his arm. So he’s a little high right now.”
“You’re high right now,” Rhett fires back.
I can’t help but smile at seeing him like this, and I move closer to the bed.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” I tell him.
The doctor steps into the room behind us, closing the door. “You’re Rhett’s other brother?” he asks Sawyer, who nods. He looks to me then. “And what’s your relation?”
“I’m his girlfriend,” I say immediately, and the lie of us dating is the furthest thing from my mind in this moment.
Rhett looks over at me, his eyes hazy from the drugs and the adrenaline, and he smiles. “Yup. That’s my girlfriend,” he says, nodding. “I’m so fucking lucky, right?”
My heart trips over itself. I can’t tell if he really means it or if it’s the drugs or if he’s working to maintain the lie we’ve crafted even now. Either way, his words have my stomach flipping over, and I smile back helplessly.
“You’re lucky to have so many people here for you,” the doctor agrees.
He introduces himself as Dr. Warren, shaking our hands.
“Rhett’s going to be fine,” he says. “Like I said, we need to monitor him for a few hours to make sure he’s not concussed.
He had a head wound that needed stitching, and according to our x-rays…
” He flips through the file in his hand.
“His wrist is broken. Just a hairline fracture, but it will need to be splinted.”
I let out a sigh of relief. All things considered, it could have been much worse.
“Tell her what happened with the bracelet,” Lennox prompts, looking amused.
Dr. Warren smiles. “It would have been easier for the x-ray if we could have cut the leather bracelet he’s wearing, but he was adamant that we couldn’t do that. Even through the drugs.”
“It was a gift,” Rhett says. “I’m keeping it.” He turns his head where it’s propped up on the pillows and smiles at me again.
Dr. Warren chuckles and smiles in my direction as well. I can feel my cheeks flushing, knowing he’s probably guessed correctly that the bracelet was a gift from me.
“I could have gotten you another one,” I murmur.
“No,” Rhett says, shaking his head.
“Don’t do that,” Lennox tells him. “You’re going to scramble your brains even more.”
“If no signs of concussion present in the next hour or so, we’ll be releasing him and you can take him home. I’ll leave you all to visit with him for now.” He withdraws from the room, closing the door behind him.
Sawyer drops into the chair on the other side of the room, and I move closer to the bed.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Rhett, reaching out to touch his good arm.
“Like there’s cotton in my head and bathwater in my veins.”
That startles a laugh out of me. “Bathwater?”
“Mm-hm. It’s warm.”
“That will be the painkillers,” Lennox explains. “It’s very weird when they first hook you up to the IV. But it fades.”
I remember that Lennox has probably been in a hospital like this, when he was first injured.
A strong hand wraps around my wrist, and when I look down, Rhett is tugging at me, trying to get me to sit down on the bed with him. “It’ll help. I already feel better now that you’re here,” he murmurs.
I smile at him and sit down on the bed, reaching up to gently brush some of his shaggy hair out of his face. “Good. Now please, please never do anything like that again. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Me too,” Sawyer chimes in. “And I’m too young and beautiful to go out like that.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” I say.
“No promises,” Rhett says. “I don’t want you to get hurt either.”
I should be arguing with him about it, but all I can feel is warm and protected.