Twelve
Rowan
“Keep your eyes open.”
Hudson’s voice cuts through the buzzing. There’s something underneath it that doesn’t belong.
Fear?
No.
That can’t be right. Hudson doesn’t get scared. He just watches other people do it.
The cold floor presses against my cheek, and a throb pulses near my temple.
Hudson’s face is inches from mine, stripped of his usual unreadable mask. He looks… human. His jaw is tight, and his hair has fallen forward over his forehead.
I look down to see my fingers are wrapped tightly around the cuff of his shirt.
“Did I…” My tongue feels thick. “Did I win?”
His eyes close.
I can’t be irritating him already. I’ve been unconscious.
“Rowan.”
There’s that tone I hate.
“Don’t Rowan me.”
“Open both eyes.”
“I have two?”
His expression hardens. “That’s not funny.”
“I thought it was pretty good.”
“Open them.”
When I do, he studies my face intently.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Doctor-y.”
A ghost of a smile hits the corner of his mouth before disappearing. “Unfortunately for both of us, I’m still enough of one to know you shouldn’t move yet.”
I plant a palm against the floor. “I need to get up.”
“You don’t.”
“I’m lying on the floor. People walk on floors.”
“You were unconscious two minutes ago.”
Something moves behind him, and I glance past his shoulder.
Oh, no.
The entire group is staring at me.
Heat crawls up my neck.
“I’m fine,” I announce to the room.
Dr. Webb crouches a few feet away, phone in hand. “Paramedics are on the way.”
My stomach sinks. “Oh, dear God, no.”
“Yes,” Hudson says.
“I don’t need paramedics.”
“You lost consciousness and hit your head.”
“So you keep saying.”
“Because you keep behaving as if you didn’t.”
“It feels minor.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?”
I reach up with a shaky hand, but Hudson catches my wrist before I can touch it.
“It’s a lot of blood.”
“Mine?”
He just stares at me.
“Right. Stupid question.” I look down and catch a red smear on my hand. “Oh.” That’s more blood than I expected.
“I’m okay,” I repeat.
Dr. Webb stands. “Everyone, give her some space. Session’s over. Let’s clear the room.”
“I hope you’re better for next week,” Gemma says through a sniffle. Is she crying? “I need someone on my side.”
“About what?”
“My mother-in-law.”
“Still has the key?”
She laughs through her tears, while Howard points a finger at me. “No therapy next week if you’ve got a concussion.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Howard. You forgot four anniversaries.”
“Jesus Christ,” Hudson curses under his breath.
A reluctant chorus of goodbyes fills the air as people gather their coats.
Robert pauses at the door, his expression softening. “You scared us.”
“I like keeping everyone on their toes.”
“Rest,” he says with a brief smile before leaving.
My throat suddenly feels tight. Definitely a concussion.
A minute later, heavy footsteps approach from the hallway, and two paramedics appear carrying enough gear to make my stomach twist.
“For fuck’s sake.”
“That’s an encouraging neurological sign,” Hudson murmurs. “You’re still swearing.”
“I can do it in multiple languages.”
“I’m sure.”
One of the paramedics kneels beside me. “I’m Alex. Can you tell me what happened?”
I look at Hudson, who simply cocks an eyebrow.
Snitch.
“I stood up and came back down.”
“Do you remember falling?”
“No.”
“Do you remember standing?”
“Yes.”
“Any dizziness before you went down?”
I hesitate. “Maybe.”
“How much is maybe?”
“The normal amount.”
Alex glances at Hudson, confused.
“Don’t look at me,” Hudson says immediately. “She’s doing that on purpose.”
Alex offers a soft smile. “Do you get dizzy when you stand often?”
My chest tightens. “Sometimes.”
“Have you ever lost consciousness before?”
“Yep.”
Beside me, I can feel Hudson tense without looking at him.
“Have you been medically assessed for the fainting?” Alex asks.
“Yes.”
He checks my pupils, blood pressure, and pulse while the second paramedic cleans around the cut at my hairline.
“That’s fast,” Alex notes, reading the monitor.
“She’s been tachycardic since she came around,” Hudson adds.
I sit there waiting for the spinning to settle. My head is throbbing, my hip hurts, and my hands are ice-cold. I just want to go home and pretend none of this happened, but Alex clearly has other plans.
“Because you lost consciousness and struck your head, we strongly recommend an evaluation in the emergency department.”
My body locks up. “No.”
“Rowan—” Hudson starts.
“No.”
I can’t risk going to the ER and having Beckett as my treating doctor. I’m not ready to open that can of worms.
He crouches in front of me again, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “You don’t want Beckett involved.”
It’s not a question.
I stare at him, concerned by how well he can read me. “You’re not going to ask why?”
He holds my gaze. “You don’t want to tell me.”
Everything inside me goes strangely quiet. I don’t know what to do with that.
“Another hospital,” he says quietly. “You get evaluated, and if you’re cleared, I’ll take you home.”
I narrow my eyes. “And you won’t call Beckett?”
“Not unless I have a medical reason to believe you can’t make decisions for yourself.”
I look down at the blood on my hands. “I’ve done this before. Passed out and hit my head.”
“Then stop telling me you’re fine when you’re bleeding on the fucking floor.”
He might be a little angry with me, but he’s also right, and I hate when that happens.
I turn to Alex. “If I agree to get checked out, can everybody stop acting like I’m about to die?”
Alex smiles. “Sure, but I can make no promises about him.” He nods toward Hudson.
Hudson doesn’t look remotely amused.