Chapter 42
Taylor
“Lights,” is the first thing I manage to rasp. My throat is dry, but oddly, my lips don’t feel chapped.
Someone flicks the lights off, and I open my eyes a little wider, although they feel heavy as fuck.
I understand that I’m in a hospital, but nothing else makes sense.
My leg has multiple steel rods sticking out of it that are all attached to each other, and my back and ass are killing me.
My left arm is in a sling, and my neck and headache remind me of my jet-ski injury.
But worst of all is my chest. The space between my pecs is so fucking sore it hurts to breathe.
Before I can start asking questions, a nurse races into my room asking me a thousand questions about pain, numbness, tingling, and memory before yelling down the hall for the doctor.
Ten minutes feel like sixty while the doctor pokes and prods.
It’s embarrassing as all fuck when he lifts the sheets to check the urine bag attached to the side of my bed.
Shoot me now.
I’m slow to process everything, but I try to move my left hand and bat him away. Fucking ow! Won’t be doing that again.
After an eternity, the doctor says, “You’ve been in a terrible car accident.
You’re only alive because of the quick action of the first responders on the scene.
You sustained multiple fractures, including your right tibia and fibula, as well as multiple ribs, multiple vertebrae in your cervical spine, a ruptured spleen, and both of your lungs collapsed.
Your sternum has suffered a deep bruise as well, but didn’t break thanks to the deployment of the airbag.
However, because you were traveling at a high rate of speed, the impact was pretty severe.
You had emergency surgery to realign the bones in your leg and stop the internal bleeding from your ruptured spleen, which had to be removed.
Your visitors are allowed to stay because your vitals are stable, but keep your heart rate down, don’t move, and if you experience any sharp pain or bleeding, hit your call button immediately.
Otherwise, they’ll all be asked to leave. You’re not out of the woods yet.”
Well, that was a fuck-ton to process.
When the doctor leaves the room, I don’t even know where to start, so I go to the one person whose presence surprises me most in the room.
“D?” Staring at a version of myself I haven’t seen in almost ten months, something wet trails down my cheeks as he approaches my bed, and I swipe at my face only to pull my hand away and see a streak of rose-colored blush across my hand.
“Hey, Bird. Long time no see,” my twin says. The smile on his face is the most confusing part until he reaches over and swipes his thumb across my cheek.
Did I imagine the events of the last few months? Was it all some weird, trippy, drug-induced dream? It can’t have been, though, because Knox is at my side.
You’re only alive because of the quick action of the first responders on the scene, the doctor had said.
I slide my eyes toward Knox, who is wearing a blue Engine 286 sweatshirt.
“It was you,” I state matter-of-factly, unsure how I know with such certainty that my boyfriend is the one who pulled me from the wreckage.
Knox nods. “Yeah, baby. It was me. It’ll always be me…whenever, wherever, and however you need me, I’ll be there.”
Not caring that everyone is watching us, not caring that I still have so many questions, and not caring that this is the most unromantic moment of my life, I slowly grab Knox’s hand where it rests on the bed and bring it to my lips. The movement almost makes me blackout from pain.
Worth it.
When I look down at the spot I kissed, there’s a pink, glittery lip print…and my nails are painted.
“Am I wearing lip gloss?” I ask the room. “And I love this color. Who did my nails?”
Livvy laughs. “You’re also wearing foundation and blush because your complexion was hideous,” she says, trying very hard not to cry—and failing.
“I did your nails. Knox did your makeup.” A look of admiration crosses her features as she adds, “He said you like the way the brushes feel and thought it might help you relax or wake up faster.”
I try to turn my head toward Knox, but he stops me. “Baby, you’ve literally broken your neck. Please stop trying to move,” he says, moving back into my full line of sight.
“I’m so sorry for leaving you,” I say, starting to cry. “Please forgive me. I love you,” I say, the words spewing from my mouth. They’re honest words, but I wish I had said them earlier and definitely during a moment less traumatic than this one…and without an audience.
“I love you, too, Princess. So fucking much.”
He presses a whisper of a kiss to my lips. When he stands up straight again, my eyes dart to my parents and widen.
“Yeah, son, we know,” my dad says.
“How long have I been out?” My tongue still feels sloppy, but the more I talk, the clearer my speech becomes. It helps even more when Knox holds a plastic cup with a straw to my mouth.
“Three days,” Ashton answers as he walks in the door, followed by Francesca. They have multiple bags between the two of them, and the scent of cheeseburgers fills the air. “Scariest fucking days of our lives, Tay.”
“Ohmygod, Bird! You’re awake!” Francy yells.
I wince at the volume, and Knox rubs his hand over my hair as he gently tells my sister, “He’s going to be noise—and light—sensitive for a while, like he was after his concussion. It’s best to whisper and lower the pitch of your voice if you can.”
“Bird, your father and I owe you an apology,” my mother chimes in before moving to the foot of my bed and placing her hand on my good ankle.
Remembering that I heard Patrick’s voice, my eyes briefly flick to the spot where he stood before they move back to my mother.
“Was Patrick…”
“Yeah, Tay,” Damon speaks up. “He was here. And he finally told the truth.”
“Shit, what’d Ash and I miss?” Francesca says.
“We’re so sorry, Bird,” my dad adds, not answering her.
“This is…this all feels like a lot. I’m really grateful everyone is here, but I’m feeling really overwhelmed. Could we maybe…” I trail off, trying to catch my breath. Apparently, talking is enough to exhaust me now, “…save some of this for later, or, like, spread it out over a few days?”
I’m finding out Patrick came clean about his lie, my entire family has met my boyfriend when I wasn’t even awake for it, Damon is here, and Knox and I just used the L-word for the first time.
Yeah, overwhelmed is one way of putting it.
“Of course, son. We’ll let you rest,” my dad says, standing to gather his things. “I think we could all use a decent night’s sleep. Why don’t your mother and I come back tomorrow around lunch?”
“That sounds great,” I mumble, trying to smile, but it hurts too fucking much. Everything hurts.
He writes his number on the whiteboard with what appears to be my nurses’ names before stopping at Knox’s side with a hand on my boyfriend’s shoulder. “That’s my cell number. You’ll call if anything changes?”
“Yessir,” Knox says with a nod to my dad.
My mom is in tears as she moves next to my bed.
“It’s so good to see you awake, Bird.” I can tell she wants to hug me, but there’s no way to do it without inflicting more pain.
Turning to my boyfriend, my mom says, “Thank you again for saving his life,” and throws her arms around Knox’s neck.
He hugs her back with his free hand still refusing to let mine go.
“It was actually him who saved mine,” Knox replies loudly enough for me to hear.
Livvy’s up next, and she leans in and kisses my cheek softly before threatening me.
“If you ever almost die again, I will chain myself to you so I can keep an eye on you at all times, Taylor Landry. And I do mean at all times.” When she uses two fingers to point between her eyes and mine, I laugh and then immediately wince.
“Ow.”
“Shit. Sorry!” Livvy says. “Don’t laugh, Tay. I’m not funny. I’m actually being totally serious right now, anyway. I love you. See you tomorrow,” she says as she bounces from the room, clearly feeling lighter since I’m awake.
“Hey man, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Just let me know when I should come by, and we can, uh, hopefully work through some shit because…” Damon clears his throat, “because I’ve fucking missed you, brother.”
“D, everything hurts so fucking badly right now, but if you don’t give me a hug, it’s only gonna hurt worse,” I tell him, needing to hug my twin so that this part of my year-long nightmare can finally be over and our two halves can be the complete circle we were always meant to be.
Damon nods and leans in, carefully bracing himself with his left hand, wrapping his right over my chest without actually touching me. In turn, I leave my casted left arm on the bed and pat his back with my right, briefly letting go of Knox’s hand. It feels so fucking good to hug my brother again.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I whisper into his neck before he pulls away.
“I promise I’ll never take someone’s word over yours ever again. I should’ve known better, and I’m so fucking sorry, Bird.”
I manage a very tiny nod. “Thanks, D. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t look happy per se, but he looks hopeful, and that feels good.
Ashton steps up to my bed next. “Look, you’ve had enough emotions in the last fifteen minutes, so Tay, I love you.
Call me if you need anything. And Knox, we can never repay you for saving our brother’s life.
Welcome to the family, man.” He holds his hand out to shake Knox’s.
Francesca does the same and blows me a kiss and tells me she’ll see me tomorrow.
Seeing my family embrace my boyfriend has my chest tightening, making my heart rate monitor pick up speed.
Shit.
“Shh, baby. Everything’s okay,” Knox whispers, his thumb rubbing across the back of my hand as he leans over me, placing kisses on my heavy eyelids.
I nod, but stay silent. I already know that crying will hurt so I try to swallow it down, not wanting to add more pain to what’s already coursing through my body despite the pain pump attached to me.
When everyone’s gone, and it’s just me and Knox, I suddenly don’t know what to say, but thankfully, he fills the silence.
“It’ll be a while yet, but when they’re ready to discharge you, you’ll have to stay with someone,” Knox says, playing with the fingers on my right hand, which are about the only things on my body that aren’t broken right now.
“Luckily, I know a guy who’s got plenty of room and would love nothing more than you to help you heal. ”
I chuckle and then wince again.
Damn him.
“Don’t make me laugh,” I whine. In truth, it hurts, but it also feels kind of good.
“Let’s move in together,” Knox says, totally catching me off guard. I try to turn my head, but I don’t make it far.
“Damn it, Knox. Stop making me want to look at you!”
He laughs, and I’m able to give him a grin.
“I mean it, Taylor. Let’s move in together.
A new house with new memories for both of us.
It can be closer to the airport. Phoenix lives on that side of town.
It would be cool to be closer to him.” He gains excitement the more he talks, and I love every word coming from his lips.
“I love you,” he says again. “I want to keep you, cherish you, support you, and have all the gay sex with you.”
“Goddammit, Knox,” I say, unable to stop the laughter. It makes my fucking chest feel like it’s going to split open, but I can’t stop.
Or maybe that’s my heart overflowing with joy, love, and happiness.
Getting my laughter under control, I tell him, “It can just be called sex, you know. It doesn’t have to be gay sex. You and your labels. Have you learned nothing?”
“Oh, I’ve learned plenty. In fact, as soon as you can blink without needing an I.V. of morphine, I’d be happy to show you,” he says suggestively.
We both know it’s going to be a while, but knowing Knox is going to be with me through it all makes me ready to claw my way to recovery.