Chapter 43

43

KANNON

P ain had a way of making everything sharper, more vivid. The fluorescent lights above me buzzed faintly, their hum merging with the steady beeping of the machines. My body ached from head to toe. When I came to with a bright light shining in my eyes, I thought for sure I was about to see some pearly gates. Not that I had earned my halo but I figured maybe someone had taken pity on me.

My first thought had been Merritt. I didn’t want to die before I could tell her I was sorry. That I was a total jackass but I was a jackass that loved her. Just when I had resigned myself to spend the rest of eternity regretting my foolish mistake, I heard voices. A lot of them. They were all yelling at me.

And then I felt the pain. That told me I was alive.

I didn’t know how much time had passed from the moment I saw those headlights coming at me until now. Time had blurred. I was locked in a haze of pain and regret. People wearing white and a few in blue were poking and prodding at me. I felt my clothes being pulled away from me and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was naked, but I was helpless to do anything about it.

My ears picked up fragments of conversations. “BP dropping.” “Get the imaging results now.” And so on. They were talking about me as if I wasn’t right there, which I guess made sense, given that I wasn’t really able to participate. But it bothered me, the way their discussions hovered around me, detached yet invasive.

As they wheeled me through those too white hallways, a roaring in my ears grew louder. The pain meds must have started kicking in because despite the physical agony, a strange detachment began to seep through my consciousness. I thought about Merritt again, her face when she found out I was hurt. I did remember telling them to call Riggs. His name was the emergency contact in my phone, but I had no idea if my phone was shattered. I hoped someone called him. I didn’t want to do this alone.

That was the last thing I remembered.

And then I felt her. I couldn’t explain how or why but I did. And when I opened my eyes, she was there.

She stood over me, her eyes searching mine. “You look like hell,” she said, her voice trembling and tears welling in her eyes.

I gave her a weak smile. “Good to see you too.”

“What were you thinking?” she demanded, her voice breaking halfway through her question.

I sighed, shifting slightly to try and sit up straighter. It didn’t work. I wasn’t in nearly as much pain, but the drugs were making me feel heavy. My limbs weren’t responding. “Merritt, listen?—”

“No, you listen,” she snapped, leaning over me now. “I told you I couldn’t do this. I told you I couldn’t lose someone else. And then you go and?—”

“I wasn’t driving like an idiot,” I interrupted. Her mouth snapped shut, but the fire in her eyes didn’t dim. “I wasn’t trying to be reckless. Believe it or not, I was going slow. Not slow, but the speed limit. This wasn’t my fault. I came around a blind corner, and there was a car in my lane. There was nothing I could do.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“I thought I might die,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “Right there, in that split second, I thought it was over. And all I could think about was you. About how I wouldn’t get the chance to fix everything I messed up with you. How I wouldn’t get to tell you how much you mean to me.”

Her expression softened just a little, but she shook her head, like she was trying to hold on to her anger. “You’re an idiot,” she said, her voice quieter now.

I laughed softly, wincing at the pain that shot through my ribs. “Yeah, I am. But I’m done being an idiot. I’m done with trying to outrun everything I feel. I’m done being anything other than hopelessly, completely in love with you.”

“Kannon—”

“No, let me finish,” I said, cutting her off. My chest tightened, and it wasn’t just from the aching ribs. “I need you, Merritt. I’ll throw myself in front of a car a thousand times over if that’s what it takes for you to forgive me and give me another chance.”

She stared at me for several long seconds, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, finally, she shook her head again. “Like I said, you’re an idiot. But I love you. And I forgive you. But if you ever scare me like this again, I’ll throw you in front of a car myself. Got it?”

A grin broke across my face, despite the pain. “Got it.”

She leaned down, her lips brushing against mine gently at first, then with more certainty. I kissed her back, every ache and pain momentarily forgotten as we poured everything into that moment.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against mine, and I could feel her breath against my skin. “So, what exactly are your injuries?” she asked. “I’m serious when I say you look awful. Beautiful but awful.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

Just then, a doctor came in. He looked at Merritt, then me. “Well, I just checked your x-rays,” he said.

“My legs?” I asked.

“In one piece. You’ve got two cracked ribs, but I don’t see any other broken bones.”

“What about his head?” Merritt asked. “I mean, does he have a brain injury?”

“He’s got a concussion,” the doctor said.

“How bad?” Merritt asked breathlessly. “Does he need surgery? Is there internal bleeding?”

The doctor smiled. “He has a bruised jaw, busted lip, road rash, and a dislocated shoulder. All in all, it could have been a whole lot worse. He’s a very lucky man. I think he’s got one hell of a guardian angel looking out for him.”

Merritt exhaled a shaky breath, relief washing over her features. She reached out and gently traced the bruise that was forming along my jawline with the tip of her finger. “You’re telling me,” she murmured.

“So when can he go home?” Merritt asked, her hand finding mine and squeezing it gently.

“Given the circumstances, he should probably stay overnight for observation, just to ensure there are no complications from the concussion or any other unseen injuries,” the doctor explained, flipping through notes on his clipboard. “I would say two days at least. That will tell us more. Sometimes injuries we don’t initially see will sneak up. It’s better if he’s here so we can monitor him closely. We’re working on getting you a room upstairs.”

The doctor left after that.

“See,” I said. “I’m good.”

“I wouldn’t say good. You’re alive and mostly in one piece.”

“He said I have a guardian angel,” I said quietly. “Maybe Gary.”

I heard her sharp intake of breath. She nodded. “I think that’s a fair guess.”

Riggs popped in not long after, leaning against the doorway with his usual smirk. “You look like crap, man,” he said, strolling in like he owned the place.

“So do you,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “At least I have an excuse.”

Merritt smiled at Riggs. “I’ll give you two a minute,” she said. “I’m going to grab some coffee. It’s going to be a long night.”

“You can go home,” I said. “You heard the doctor, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine. You’re being observed. I will be observing you being observed.”

She turned and walked out just like that.

Riggs dropped into the chair next to the bed, crossing his arms. “She’s a keeper, that one.”

“Don’t I know it,” I said, leaning back against the pillows.

He nodded toward me. “You need anything? Clean clothes, food?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” I admitted. “Doc says I’ll be here at least overnight to keep an eye on the swelling and all that.”

Riggs nodded. “I’ll bring some stuff by in the morning. Try not to scare her off before then, huh?”

I smirked. “I’ll do my best.”

Two nurses came in looking like they were on a mission. “Alright, Mr. Warner, we’re taking you upstairs.”

“Wait, my girlfriend…”

They didn’t wait. They were unhooking things and rolling me away.

“What room is he going to be in?” Riggs asked.

“Four fifteen.”

“I’ll find Merritt,” Riggs called out. “Try not to crash again in the meantime.”

Ten minutes later, I was in a private room in a bigger bed that was far more comfortable. The pain in my shoulder was still there, but it was more of a dull ache. I closed my eyes and sent up a silent thank you to the universe. I felt like I had gotten a second chance at life. At happiness. With Merritt.

I heard soft footsteps and managed to open my eyes. Merritt walked in with a cup of coffee.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine.”

She didn’t bother with the chair. Instead, she climbed into the hospital bed, careful not to jostle me too much, and curled herself around me. Her close proximity was better than any pain meds against the lingering aches in my body.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you.”

“I’m sorry I talked to you like that,” I said.

“Yeah, I’ll give you a pass one last time for being a jerk. I think we got to learn a valuable lesson without paying too high of a price. Never walk away angry. We agree to stay put and fight it out.”

“Agreed.”

“What about the other driver?” she asked. “Were they hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I don’t know. I just remember coming to a resolution that I was going to slow down and do what you asked. I had this sense of peace wash over me and then there were headlights. It happened so fast I barely had time to react. I think I swerved to the right, but it wasn’t enough. There was an impact and the next thing I knew people were yelling at me with flashlights in my eyes.”

“I met Kleo,” she said softly.

I blinked, turning my head to look at her. “Kleo? Who? Wait, the Kleo I know? How?”

My brain was a little sluggish. Between the concussion and the pain meds, I wasn’t sure I was hearing her correctly.

“I went to the cemetery to see my dad, which saying that sounds really weird still. Anyway, she asked if I was okay. It turned out she was there to see Leah. I didn’t realize my dad was buried so close to her. She was with me when Riggs called me.”

“Small world. How is she?” I asked.

“I think she feels guilty about not being there after Leah died.”

“I feel the same way about her,” I admitted with a sigh. “I should’ve checked on her too. We were both hurting, but I just shut down.”

Merritt nodded, her eyes full of understanding. “Maybe when you’re feeling better, we can reach out to her. Together.”

I stared at her, overwhelmed by how much she understood me. “You’d do that?”

She smiled softly. “I owe it to Leah. And so do you.”

For a moment, I couldn’t find the words. “Thank you.”

She rested her head against my shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Leah was a part of your life, and I respect that. But I also know that what we have, it’s different.”

She was right. I had loved Leah, but what I felt for Merritt was something else entirely. Leah and I had a relationship that burned hot and fast. It didn’t have staying power. I was glad Merritt understood that.

Even with the pain radiating through my body, I had never felt so at peace.

“Okay,” I murmured.

“Sleep,” she whispered. “Rest and heal. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

As my eyes grew heavy, I let the sound of her breathing lull me to sleep, knowing that for the first time in a long time I wasn’t alone. I believed her when she said she was going to be there for me.

I vowed to be there for her, too.