Chapter 36 #2
“Home, worried as fuck. It really hurt him that he couldn’t be here for you. But I told him I’d sneak him in after hours.”
“You’re the best, Thorne.” I yawn widely, the meds fuzzing my head even more. I’m tired, so very sleepy. “Thanks for being here for me.” He says something I can’t catch, but I’m too caught up in the haze I’m in.
Before I’m pulled under, I say, “Love you.”
Then sleep overtakes me.
A pain so severe I almost cry out wakes me from my drug induced slumber.
“Fucking fuck,” I grunt, trying to reach over to rub away the pain, but it’s covered in gauze and my right arm is in a sling. “Fucking shit,” I curse again.
“Don’t try to move,” a sweet voice says, and I look over at Warren. He has dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes, his beautiful hair in disarray. “How bad are you hurting?”
“What’s higher than a ten?” I clench my teeth hard enough to my jaw click.
“Let me get the doctor in here.”
He reaches for the remote to press the call button, but I stop him. “No. I need to call my mom, and I don’t want to do that while I’m doped up.”
My mind feeds me flashes of my earlier conversation and I groan in embarrassment. What the fuck? What was I thinking? My mouth ran away from me, and I did nothing to stop it. No more fucking drugs. I can’t believe I called Thorne Daddy. Jesus Christ.
His brown eyes enter my field of vision as he stands next to Warren. “Remembering your rambling?”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Don’t remind me. Jett won’t say anything, I swear. I just wish I had told him without the audience.”
Warren smiles, though it’s shaky. “I trust your judgement.” He wipes a tear that leaks down his face. “I was so scared.” He folds his lips in but can’t hold back the sobs and turns into Thorne’s chest.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out to him with my left hand. “I’m sorry. I should have told you two that I was so hurt. That’s my bad.”
Warren leans toward me, allowing me to hug him. “It’s okay. I just want you to not be in pain.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He looks down at me sternly, looking every bit the professor. “You’re staying with me. Thorne’s place is fine, but it’s too small.” He turns to Thorne. “Sorry, but it is.”
Thorne shrugs. “If he’s staying with you, then so am I. We can take care of him together.”
I sigh, thankful I have the two of them. If this had happened when I was in the frat, they would have left me to my own devices, making me struggle. But Thorne and Warren won’t leave my side.
“I’m surprised they let you down by the pool,” I say to Thorne.
A sharp grin tips up his lips. “No one let me do shit. I had to shove your buddy in the pool when he grabbed my arm, telling me to stay back. He’s lucky that’s all I did.”
“You’re trouble,” I say, then hiss when pain shoots down my arm. If I’m going to make my call, I have to do it now before the pain becomes unbearable.
Looking at the clock on the wall, I see that it’s just after eight. I’m sure my father has called more times than I can count to ask about the results of the meet. Might as well call him now and tell him what happened before he hears it from someone else.
“Did Jett bring my stuff?” I ask Thorne since they were here together earlier.
“Yeah, what do you need?”
“My phone.”
He goes over to the gym bag near the door and pulls it out. “It’s been ringing nonstop. You think someone called your folks?”
A sinking feeling settles in my gut as I look at the home screen. Twenty-three missed calls from my dad, eleven from my mom, and a bunch of texts from her too.
I open the texts first, then groan as I read them.
Mom: Good luck today! I know you’ll do great.
Mom: How was your meet?
Mom: I know you’re with your friends. Text me later
Mom: Your father just told me you were hurt! Call me!
Mom: Please Chance, I need to hear your voice!
Mom: Call me please
“My mom is worried,” I say, holding up my phone so they can see the line of texts.
“I’ll call her to let her know I’m okay, then get some meds.
” My shoulder is screaming at me more and more.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I push them away so I can make this call.
After she knows I’m fine, I’ll press the button and get drugged up enough that the pain will be practically nonexistent.
I’ll worry about my dad later.
Pressing call on her contact, I wait for my mother to answer the phone.
“Chance, dear!” she practically shouts, sounding more sober than I’ve ever heard her. “Are you alright? Your coach called your father and told him you were hurt. What happened?”
“Tore my rotator cuff,” I tell her. “But I’m okay.”
“Oh my god,” she cries, sounding on the verge of tears. “I’ll catch a flight there as soon as I can to take care of you. Can I stay at the frat house? What am I saying? I’ll get a hotel room. I’ll—”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I say, looking up at Thorne and Warren, who are both watching me intently. “I have people taking care of me. I’m fine.”
She lets out a small sob. “I’m so sorry, honey. If you need me, please call.”
Taking the chance that I’m sure won’t come ever again, I say, “If you come check on me, don’t go back. Stay here.”