Chapter 31 Amy
After a week in the hospital, I’m released back into the wild.
I’m still hobbling around, though, and Raven is all over me like a rash, just the way she said she’d be, force-feeding me love and meals.
She’s decided to get me on a superfood diet to help with the healing process, and there’s no escaping it—not with this cast on my leg, anyway.
I can’t work out and I can’t drive, either.
I can’t do a single thing, and I hate feeling so helpless. This is the last thing I needed!
“Did you call?” she croons as she waddles into my room.
Wow. This time, she lasted a whole twenty minutes before checking in on me.
“Nope—and you know it.”
“I could’ve sworn I heard my name!”
“Did you check in your uterus?”
“Need anything?” she chirps.
“A working car?”
“You’d need an extra leg to drive it.”
I’m shooting her a scathing look when we suddenly hear keys jangling somewhere downstairs.
“Speaking of cars… RJ feeling any better about the whole thing?”
He’s been so pissed with me since the accident—he came down on me hard, yelling at me for putting my life in danger for the shittiest reason, and barring me from the shop until further notice. Which is just about the worst punishment he could throw my way.
“You’re still grounded, young lady.”
I adjust the pillow under my head and let out a groan. “Go make me a vitamin shot.”
“I’m so blessed to have a sister like you.”
While Raven busies herself in the kitchen, I consider the facts.
My leg is itchy, my ribs hurt, and my car is screwed.
I feel like taking it out on the world, but the only person I have to blame for this mess is me—so I take it out on myself, instead.
In a classic Amy Hitman move, I let my anger get the better of me, and now I’m paying the price.
If I hadn’t been driving so fast, the flat wouldn’t have triggered so much drama.
My sister wanders back in, glass in hand. “Any word from Lewis?”
I furrow my brow. “Who?”
I started PT five days ago, but I’m trying to whip myself back into mental shape, too—which involves erasing any lingering attachment to Lewis Conley whatsoever.
April is just around the corner—in three months’ time, he’ll be leaving SHU, and everything will be normal again.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Whatever happens, I can’t cave now.
“I get it.” She looks at me knowingly. “You’re training yourself not to give a crap. Am I right?”
“You are—and I think it’s working.” I brighten. “I already feel a little less mad at him.”
I’m so full of shit. It isn’t working—not even a little bit. There’s a cloud of pure rage hanging over me, bursting with unanswered questions. I can’t stop thinking about him.
“Well, he’s really trying to make things right. Maybe that’s helping,” Raven says.
The way he was back there at the hospital felt different. Different how, I can’t exactly say, though—and I don’t have it in me to find out.
I roll my eyes. “Remind me why you’re on his side, again?”
I ended up telling Raven everything, expecting her to curse his ass and back me up without hesitation, but she didn’t seem in the least bit surprised, and she’s been consistently playing devil’s advocate. Which is annoying.
“There are no sides here, Amy. Just two stubborn-ass people. He cares about you, and you can try feeding me all the bullshit you want… I know you still care about him.”
“You’re a Hitman, Raven—how can you be that naive?”
“How can you be that cold? You didn’t even give him a chance to explain!”
“Explain what!” I yell. “This is surreal. Where’s your ‘I’m gonna break his balls’ talk now? Why’s it different with him?” I narrow my eyes at her. “He’s really got you hooked, hasn’t he? Not that I’m judging—he did the same to me.”
“Aren’t you curious to hear what he had to say at the hospital?”
“No.”
“He was going around telling everyone he was your boyfriend,” Raven presses. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“He said that because he was feeling guilty. Where’s he been since then?” I smile at her triumphantly. “Nowhere to be seen!”
She goes to say something and changes her mind in a split second.
“I give up,” she sighs, whipping the comforter off me. “Time to get ready for PT. Your driver is on his way.”
“I just want a normal life,” I grumble as I ease myself out of bed.
I point at a shoe on the floor and watch as Raven laces me in.
You wanna dote on me? I’m gonna drive you hard, lady!
“I think your life is pretty awesome.”
Oh, sure—a real fucking fairy tale!
As if things weren’t bad enough, the Campus Drivers have started stalking me whenever I leave the house, and it’s knocking my confidence. Every time I need to go somewhere, there’s a driver waiting for me. At the garage. At the PT office. Everywhere I turn.
The whole situation is just weird. I’m not their friend; I’m not a client and I’m not a Campus Driver; but I’m getting free lifts left, right, and center, and all I can think is that they’re trying to ease their friend’s guilty conscience. Today’s a case in point.
The moment I step foot out of the shop, Donovan’s Plymouth is ready and waiting.
“Hey, Firebird!” He grins. “Looking better than yesterday!”
He goes to reach for my arm but thinks better of it when he meets my eye.
“You think a broken leg is gonna get in my way?” I arch an eyebrow at him. “Take a step back, sir!”
He shoots me a smile and bows, opening the door and letting me handle myself.
My life is hell.
I’ve given up trying to sneak under the radar.
There’s a steady stream of self-appointed drivers at my beck and call, though there’s one who’s conspicuously absent.
I should be glad that Lewis has respected my boundaries—I did tell him that I wanted us to stop seeing each other, after all.
I hoped that asking him to back off would be a relief, but it turns out I feel edgier than ever.
Basketball regular season has ended, but there’s still no sign of him. My heart drops. God, I’m so lame.
Donovan has pushed back the seat, giving me enough space to stretch my leg out. Just as I’m fastening my seatbelt, I catch a flash of blond curls out of the corner of my eye. When Carrie pops her head out from the back seat, I startle, banging my cast against the dashboard.
“Fuck!” I growl, taking a deep breath in.
“Sorry!” She leans between the front seats. “You okay?”
“I think I broke something,” I quip.
“How’s PT?”
“It sucks. I hate that guy; he orders me around like we’re in boot camp.”
“You should ask Lois to come by,” Carrie suggests. “Okay, she’s only a sophomore—but she’s really good. Tell us when you’re free, and we could both come over. I can bring booze and tacos. We could find a series to watch…”
My heart melts a little. These girls have been amazing to me—sweet and reliable. But a girls’ night in is a step too far. Sounds like a nightmare.
“I was only kidding!” I try. “The physical therapist is really nice—and sexy as hell, too.”
If you’re into fiftysomethings.
“Sexy?” Donovan frowns. “I’m gonna need a name, ma’am.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Why—you interested?”
“No!”
“How ’bout you just drive, Don,” Carrie drawls.
“That’s what you’re here for, after all—not to scare off Lewis’s competition or convince Amy to hear him out.
” She sighs. “I get that he’s been super annoying these past few weeks, and it’d be great if he could stop asking how she is.
But he’s a big boy, okay? He needs to handle this himself.
” She shakes her head and flashes me a sweet smile.
“He got what he deserved, anyway. So it takes you months to realize ‘Hey, you know—maybe I have a heart as well as a penis’? Deal with it, buddy. Just don’t expect us to sit on our asses crying over a piece of dick. ”
“Did she just say ‘dick’?” Donovan wiggles his eyebrows at me.
“They think they know it all, don’t they? So smart, so in control. Well guess what, suckers? BAM!”
She claps her hands in my ear and I flinch.
“By the time they wake up, it’s too fucking late. Yup, that’s right, sunshine! You messed up, and you can cry me a river—it ain’t changing a thing! You screwed up? Time to own your shit.”
She mimes loading a shotgun. This girl is out of control.
“Damn, Carrie. I just realized you’re the dude in our relationship.”
She flips him the finger, sinking deeper into her seat.
I stare straight ahead, mulling over her words. She’s saying Lewis is struggling with the distance between us. He’s the one who wanted it that way, though.
Just as I’m about to spiral, we pull into the complex, and I limp my way over to meet my physical therapist.
It’s a bad session. I can’t focus on any of the exercises—all I can think about is Lewis, and I’m torn.
On one hand, I just want to run as far away as I can, until I find some kind of inner stillness.
On the other, I’ve got this urge to just show up at his place and scream in his face.
Couldn’t I have picked someone more straightforward to fall in love with?
Like my own complications weren’t bad enough.
Lane drops me back home, and I make a beeline for my room, my crutches clattering against the metal stairs. There’s a racket coming from the garage, and I freeze mid-step.
I squeeze my eyes tight and pinch my lips together. That’s the plasma cutter. Suddenly, I make a decision. Screw RJ and his shop ban. I turn back down the steps and hobble my way to the main entrance, stopping in my tracks when I spot the chain and padlock.
“Are you for real?” I yell.
Ignoring the burning in my ribs, I slam my crutches down against the lock. I’m so done with being this helpless.
“Open the door, Ronald!”
I pause to listen—he’s definitely in there.
“You’re not supposed to be here, Amy.”
“Let me in! I’ve learned my lesson!”
“No.”
“The plasma cutter? The fucking plasma cutter?”
“Get your ass back in bed.”