Happy endings are boring. I want mine sharp
When I wake, it’s not with a jolt but a flutter. A flicker. Like my body hasn’t decided if it wants to keep going yet, I blink through the haze, my vision foggy and dim.
“Lyra!” A voice. Male. Distant, but not too far. My breath hitches. For a second, I think I’m hallucinating.
But then I hear it again. “Lyra!”
Again. Closer this time. Another voice overlaps. Jade? No. I try to answer, but my voice is nothing more than a cracked whisper. “Here…”
It disappears into the wind. I lick my lips. Swallow and try again. “Here!”
Silence.
“Here!”
“Dollface!” A sob wrenches free from my throat. That voice. I’d know it anywhere.
“Oliver!” I cry, my strength blooming out of the deepest parts of me.
“Keep talking, baby,” his voice calls. “Keep talking; we’re coming!” I try to sit up, but my body won’t move. Pain flickers like fire under my skin, but I grip a branch above me and shake it with what little strength I have.
“I’m here,” I rasp. The shadows return, but I fight them back with his name. “Oliver…”
Footsteps crash through the underbrush. More than one set. Then the sun above is eclipsed by a silhouette. “Lyra, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
“I love you,” I whisper, and mean it with every cell of my broken body.
His face twists with something I can’t name. Grief, fury, and desperation. “No. Don’t say that like it’s goodbye. Stay awake, please. Fuck!”
The branches are pulled away. Arms reach for me. The pain is indescribable, tearing through my limbs, my ribs, my spine. I scream. Or maybe I don’t. Maybe it’s all in my head.
“Stay awake for me. You keep those beautiful fucking eyes on me.”
I blink slowly. “I want…lots of kids.”
“I’ll give you a whole fucking football team if that’s what you want.”
A new voice breaks through the fog. “Oh God—Beam.” My eyes squint open.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, Beam. I’m here.” His voice is thick. “We’ve got you.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve woken to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the relentless beeping of machines.
But this time is different. Last time, I woke to my brother by my side.
This time…it’s Oliver. He’s slumped forward in the chair beside my bed, his head resting against the mattress, one hand curled protectively on my thigh.
I blink, the world coming back into focus in slow, aching pieces.
My body feels like it’s been set on fire and then dunked in an ice bath.
Everything hurts. But I’m alive. I’m safe.
The last thing I remember is the pain—so sharp it forced my brain into blackout.
I try to move, instinctively reaching with my left hand—only to stop short when I realize it’s in a cast. My gaze drifts lower: my leg, braced and immobile, the familiar restraint eerily like the aftermath of my ACL tear.
With my uninjured hand, I reach for Oliver. My fingers brush through his messy hair, soft and so golden. He doesn’t stir at first, so I do it again, slower this time, savoring the contact I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again.
His body jerks, eyes snapping open, as he sits up. My hand flings back from the momentum, and I wince. His eyes, so often cold and unreadable, are now shining with emotion.
“Dollface,” he breathes out. He doesn’t waste a second. Kissing my forehead, both my eyes, my cheeks, my lips, anywhere he can reach. His touch is frantic and reverent, like he’s making sure I’m real.
I try to smile. “Oliver.” My voice is a rasp. He immediately grabs the water beside me, but he won’t let me lift it. He brings it to my lips. “Small sips,” he orders. “You’re dehydrated.”
I obey. He watches me like a hawk. His jaw is tight, dark eyes studying every flicker of pain that crosses my face. “I’ll get the doctor.”
“No.” I clutch his arm. “Not yet. Just…sit with me.”
His lips part like he wants to argue. I give him my best puppy-dog stare, regardless of the condition my face is in. I probably look like a wreck. He sinks back into the chair, closer now. “I knew you’d find me,” I whisper.
His face shudders. “Don’t ever do that to me again.” There’s nothing light in his tone. No teasing. Just pure, protective rage curled beneath his voice.
“You don’t understand what it did to me. Seeing your car like that. Knowing you were out there. I…” He cuts off, raking a hand through his hair. “I lost my goddamn mind.”
“How long was I out?”
“Forty-seven hours.”
I reach up and cup his jaw. It’s rough with stubble. Oliver is never unkempt. “I’m fine,” I whisper, ghosting my fingers over his jaw.
His eyes flash. “You’re not fine.”
“But you found me,” I say again.
“I told you. You can run. You can hide. But I’ll always chase. I’ll always find you. You’re never going that far again. I’ll fucking chain you to me if I have to. Fuck girls’ trips and anything else you try to convince me of again.”
My heart skips. I’ve never been safer than when he’s this unhinged over me. I try to keep my eyes open, but exhaustion weighs me down. I feel him shift, hear the faint creak of the chair. “No, stay,” I mumble. “Lay with me. Don’t leave.”
“You sound like me now.” He climbs into the narrow bed with infuriating caution. His hand never leaves my side as he settles in, pulling me gently to his chest. I smile faintly, sinking into his arms.
When I wake again, it’s brighter. There’s quiet chatter, the rustle of movement; every person I love is here.
“Fucking finally,” Roxy says through a wide grin, leaping to her feet.
My mom is at my side in an instant, tears running down her face as she brushes hair from my forehead. “Oh, my beautiful girl.”
“Hi, Mom,” I croak.
My dad’s standing a few feet behind, eyes glassy. “Beam.”
I scan the room, eyes darting behind them. No Oliver.
“He just stepped out with Callan,” my mom says softly, reading my panic. “He’ll be right back.”
I give her a small smile.
“Had to get even more attention, huh?” Charlie grumbles, rolling his eyes, but his voice cracks. His mask of sarcasm is slipping. I open my arms to my not-so-little brother. He doesn’t hesitate, leaning down and wrapping me in a tight, careful hug. His hand cups the back of my head.
“I’m never leaving you again,” Roxy declares, crawling onto the bed without waiting for permission. She wedges herself beside me and rests her head on the pillow next to mine. I turn and grab her hand, squeezing it tightly.
“I’m serious,” she whispers. “You’re stuck with me.”
“Looks like I’ll be your neighbor then,” Sam says as he walks over, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
I smile up at him. “You know I’d love that. I say we buy the whole cul-de-sac.”
Everyone chuckles. The mood lifts just slightly, a little pocket of peace in the middle of all the wreckage. My eyes drift to Vee. She hasn’t spoken, but her cheeks are streaked with tears, and her hands tremble at her sides.
“Come here,” I tell her softly.
Her face crumples. She rushes to my side, her hands hovering above me like she’s afraid I’ll break into pieces.
“I won’t break,” I whisper. That’s all it takes. She lets out a broken sound and bends over, hugging me so gently I barely feel her. I feel the wet warmth of her tears hit my collarbone, making my throat tighten. I blink hard, but the tears spill anyway.
There’s no escaping it. The grief, the fear, the unbearable relief of being found. Of still being here. And then we’re all laughing through tears. Or crying through laughter. I’m not sure which. But we’re together.
Just as the room starts to settle, the door creaks open, and Callan strolls in, holding trays of coffee and grinning.
“Well…are we crying or hosting a family reunion in here?” Roxy flips him off without looking up from where she’s curled beside me.
“Love you too,” Callan chirps, setting one of the cups on my bedside tray. “That one’s decaf. Because apparently someone needs to watch their heart rate. God forbid you get too excited, and Oliver has an aneurysm.” That makes Charlie snort, and even Vee lets out a wet laugh through her tears.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Currently holding your doctor hostage. The poor guy looked like he was about to pass out when Oliver asked for a minute-by-minute recovery schedule.” I laugh, but it catches on something in my chest.
“That sounds about right,” Sam murmurs with a grin.
“Oh, and when the doctor mentioned you would need physical therapy, I’m pretty sure he was five seconds away from enrolling in the course himself so he could supervise. Thankfully, James was there to calm him down.”
“Glad he takes care of my daughter.” Dad smiles at me and winks.
Mom comes up to me, kissing my temple before wiping my cheeks. “We’ll be right back,” she says. Her eyes flick to James. He’s been standing in the corner, silent and stiff. Once everyone else leaves, James walks over, tears already spilling.
“Beam, I had no idea. About…about the adoption.” I guess the cat is out of the bag. What else did I miss when I was out?
I shake my head. “This isn’t on you. Or on me. She was twisted, James. That’s it. End of story.”
He kisses my forehead. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” I pause, then ask what I’ve been dreading. “Can you tell me what happened?”
He hesitates. “Don’t you want to wait for Oliver?”
“No. I want the full truth.”
James sits on the edge of the bed, sighing.
“Oliver. He found your car, called Dad. You know how our family is. One goes down, we all go in. Everyone was ready. Even when Mom and Dad tried to stop us. Teddy almost hijacked the plane.” He laughs, shaking his head.
“She had to be talked down by little Amanda.” I grin. That sounds like her.
“Once we got here, it was all hands on deck. Charlie, Sam, even Blaine.”
“Wait. Blaine?”
James gives me a look. “Yeah. He found Molly.”
My stomach drops. The memory crashes back. Blaine attempting to kill Jade. The cliff. Molly.
“Is she?”
James nods solemnly. “Died on the route to the hospital.” I cover my mouth. “That’s when the school had no choice but to get involved. Jade was…”
“Was what?”
“Killed.” He lowers his head, whispering in my ear, “And I bet you could figure out who happened to do that.”
When he pulls back, I meet his eyes, giving him a nod. “I’m glad it’s over.”
“I’m glad you’re safe.”
Later that night, it’s just Oliver and me again. The doctors had come in while James was sitting with me. All things considered, they said I was lucky. After more than twelve hours, they gave me one word again.
Lucky. I guess it’s better than prank.
They said I’ll never get full mobility, but they don’t know me. Add to that the new constellation of scars across my torso and thighs.
The nightmare is over.
I survived.
I chose what followed me out of the dark…
And I sleep safely because of it.