11
T here are too many sobs to count.
Dakota sniffles. Ruby and Reese, their eyes rimmed red, hover over her, rubbing her back and making soothing noises of concern.
Charlie and Ford pass a bottle of gas station scotch. Davis paces. For once, he can’t boss and order his way through this. He looks as helpless as everyone else. My brothers are strung as tight as rubber bands, ready to snap at any moment.
Seated on a hard, plastic chair in the waiting room, I stare at the floor. The ice pack pressed against my jaw is now lukewarm. My body is numb and blurry, thanks partly to Davis’s brick of a right hook.
This is the worst night of my fucking life.
We’re all here in a strange city, at a hospital, waiting on word about Fallon’s surgery. It’s been three hours and nothing. Nothing about this is okay. Everything is fucked.
“Fallon,” I whisper. “Please.” It’s a prayer. For someone up there to hear me and do something. To make her okay. Otherwise…
I’m a fucking goner.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Fallon crawling for me.
Her screams silencing.
Her body twisted, like a broken doll.
The images keep flashing through my mind like a strobe, and I wish to hell it was dream.
This was bound to happen sooner or later. I knew it. Everyone knew it. It’s what I feared. Fallon getting hurt. It’s why I flipped the fuck out when she told us she was riding bulls.
But I’m not ready for it. Not now. Not ever.
My chest aches like that night I found her at the Edens. I thought my heart would never fucking restart again.
At the sound of boot steps, I open my eyes.
Vic appears around the corner of the waiting room, two coffee cups in his hand. He’s been here since Fallon’s accident. He hands the coffees to Reese and Ruby, who give him soft smiles of appreciation. He looks shaken up, but his hands are steady.
I drop the ice pack on the ground and tear up from my chair. I feel helpless as fuck. Waiting around, doing nothing. My brothers watch me with concern.
“Wyatt,” Ford says but silences when Reese touches his shoulder.
I swallow the rock in my throat. Tear a hand through my hair, twist. “I should have stopped her. I should have done something…”
I don’t know if it’s a regret from the past or a plea from the present. All I know is that both ring true. If I had done something…
Dakota wouldn’t be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Fallon would be okay. She’d be back in Montana. Maybe in my arms, in my bed. She’d be safe. Healthy. Still scowling. Still whole.
And me, I’d be halfway sane at least.
Ford blows out an exhausted breath. “I think that’s what we’re all feelin’ right now.”
“You knew this could happen. I knew this could happen.” Charlie’s eyes are sympathetic, and I know he’s thinking of Ruby. He bows his dark head. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, Wyatt.”
“We let her unravel.” Dakota’s face is etched with fear and sadness.
“We weren’t there. And she left. And now this happened.
” Her heart-wrenching sobs have me looking away.
Have Davis pulling his wife up and into his arms, his face pale and grim.
I haven’t seen him this frazzled, not since the night Aiden King kidnapped Dakota.
My hand balls to a fist.
Fucking Aiden King.
Fallon’s here because of him.
We’re all here because of him.
He did this, started this bullshit with Fallon. He broke her and she went off the fucking deep end and this is where we are now.
Fucked. We’re all fucked without her.
“Fallon’s got spunk,” says Vic from his corner chair. “A bad run can’t keep that girl down.”
I stare at the ground, my eyes burning again.
If she’s seriously hurt, I don’t know how we’ll come back from this.
I need Fallon here. I need her to tell me it’ll all be okay. I need her to scoff at us for worrying then tell me to get my shit together. Because she’s always been my rock, and without her, I don’t know how I can do this. It was just always her .
The door swings open.
Our heads jerk up, expecting the doctor.
I bristle, hackles rising as Pappy Starr slips into my periphery. Everyone in the room tenses.
“How’s our girl?” he drawls.
This fucker’s dead.
My hands pull to fists, but before I can hit him in the fat fucking face, Dakota rushes him.
“This is your fault,” she hisses. Her palm connects with his cheek, a sharp slap that echoes around the waiting room.
“Oh no,” Ruby whispers.
Another slap. Another. Pappy tries to step back, lifting his hands to shield his face, but Dakota has him cornered against the wall.
“You bastard. You promised you’d keep her safe. You promised—” Dakota breaks off, fists falling to her side as she chokes on her sobs.
Finally, Davis pulls his wife away. She wilts against him, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Go,” Davis orders over the top of his wife’s dark head. “Now.”
Face lined with shock, Pappy lowers his hands, adjusts his cuffs.
I move toward him. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Pappy bristles. “She’s my client. I—”
Charlie rises. Then Ford.
At that, Pappy swallows.
“She’s hurt because of you,” I snarl, shoving his chest. “Save your bullshit apologies before I break your fucking face.”
He’s never cared when she’s been hurt before. He’s only here now because it’s bad. Because he needs his moneymaker.
Reese, in the background, hisses, “Stop it. All of you.”
After a second look at all of us, Pappy turns and retreats down the hallway.
A throat clears behind us.
“Is this a good time?”
The doctor. Fuck.
We all turn, guiltily locking eyes, mere seconds from being caught throwing punches in a damn hospital waiting room.
“Yes, hi, I’m sorry,” Dakota says, straightening her dusty blouse and wiping her face. “It’s been a long night.”
The doctor, a tall man with glasses and a crew cut, nods. “I understand. It’s a stressful time for everyone right now.”
Dakota glances at Davis, who takes her hand. “You have news about my sister?”
“I do.” He scans us all. “I’m Dr. Joy.”
Charlie passes Ford the bottle of scotch, and he takes a long swig.
“That name better be good fucking omen,” Ford mutters beside me.
Dr. Joy looks at Dakota. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
I clench on instinct. Can’t help myself. Not knowing…it’ll kill me.
Dakota’s mouth presses into a firm line. “No. Tell them what you’d tell me.” Tears in her eyes, she looks up at Davis. “Fallon would want that.”
Dr. Joy nods. “Fallon’s out of surgery and stable. We managed to stop the internal bleeding.”
Charlie sighs to the ceiling. “Thank Christ.”
We listen as the doctor goes over a long list of Fallon’s injuries. Cracked ribs. Bruising. Splenectomy because of a ruptured spleen. Through it all, I feel numb, dead inside. I stare at him, my eyes starting to burn again.
“What about her leg?” I rasp.
“Well, as you know, she broke her femur. That’s the largest bone in the body, and it’s a significant break. We repaired it by inserting a long metal rod through the middle of the bone, otherwise what is known as a surgical fixation.”
I blow out a breath. Force myself to ask the question we’re all thinking. “Will she walk again?”
“She will.” Sighs of relief around the waiting room. “But…”
“But what?” Dakota asks.
Dr. Joy shakes his head. “She will walk with assistance. But she won’t ride.”
The waiting room is as silent as a tomb. I’ve never heard fear get this quiet.
Bile hits my throat, and my vision blurs. Fuck. Fuck.
“But you don’t understand.” Dakota looks as terrified as I feel. “Fallon has to ride. She has to.”
“She’s lucky to be alive,” Dr. Joy says. “It’s a miracle she survived this.”
“Oh my god,” Dakota gasps, turning her face into Davis’s chest. “This will kill her.”
Davis looks calm, but the strain on his face tells a different story.
“Goddamn,” Ford groans, tucking Reese closer to him. “What a mess.”
Dr. Joy nods to Dakota. “She’s out of surgery and recovering in her room. You can see her now.”
It’s the selfish asshole, the Fallon-addicted part of me that blurts, “I need to see her.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Visiting hours are family only.”
My hands pull to fists. “Fuck your visiting hours.”
“Shit,” Charlie curses.
Unhinged, I stride forward. Every molecule in my body needs to be beside her. No one’s keeping me from her. Not again.
“Wyatt.” Davis tries to grab me, but I duck under the barricade that is his arm and past the doctor.
“Sir, you need to sit down. Family only.” The doctor snares my arm, stopping me.
I whirl around like a goddamn psycho and growl.
Bad fucking mistake.
“She is family,” I snarl and give the doctor a hard shove and a glare. “She’s my fucking wife.”