Page 94 of Almost

“Lia—”

“No. I want to see it. Watching a short video is not going to make my brain melt, so please, show it to me,” I insist, holding out my good hand for Chris to hand me his phone.

He sighs, shaking his head before relenting, placing the device in my hand. “I’m going to hell for this.”

“I was bound to see it at some point,” I mumble under my breath as I turn the volume up to hear a fan speaking excitedly as they zoom in on me and Owen walking. In the background, it’s blurry, but I see a car driving fast, my head turns in the video, and Owen has half a second to shove me out of the way before he’s hit head-on, flying up over the top of the car, landing in a heap on the ground. My body is lying a few feet away as I try to get up before falling back to the ground, my head bouncing off the concrete like a ball. Two women run over, splitting off to check on us just as Sebastian enters the frame, falling to his knees next to me.

I turn the phone off, not needing to see any more. “Thank you for showing me,” I say, my voice thick as I blink tears out of my eyes. Owen had enough time to save me, or himself, and he chose me. My idiotic brother chose me over himself, and I haven’t been to see him. I knew there was adrunk driver, and that I wasn’t hit, but Owen was, but I didn’t know why. “I need to see my brother.” I look up at Chris, my mind made up, as I push the blankets off me.

Chris offers me a hand. “I do have to ask if you’re okay enough to go. I don’t want to make anything worse,” he says hesitantly, and I put my hand in his.

“I have a concussion, and a broken arm. A few stitches, but I’m not sure those really count. I’ll need sunglasses, but as long as you don’t slam on the brakes too hard, I don’t see how it’s a problem,” I reassure Chris, feeling confident that this is the right move.

It makes more sense now after seeing the video why Bash has barely let me out of his sight. I love him for it, and I can’t blame him at all, but I need a little room to breathe. I was determined to see Owen prior to knowing the truth of the accident, but now that I know the only reason I’m not hurt worse is because he pushed me out of the way, I’m desperate.

I spend the entire ride listening to Chris’s stories about Henry as he tries to distract me. But all I can think about is Owen.

The lights in the hospital are bright so I keep my sunglasses on, despite the looks people are giving me. Chris makes sure to walk on the side that’s broken to prevent anyone from accidentally bumping into me. My confidence flickers when I see Blake and Sebastian standing in the hallway outside the door the nurse told me was Owen’s. Maybe I didn’t think this through enough because I thought Bash was at the stadium, but apparently not.

He glances over, doing a double take.

“Oh shit,” I swear under my breath.

“Man, he does not look happy with me,” Chris says as Sebastian’s jaw visibly tightens, walking toward us quickly.

“Chris, what the hell?” he demands, his anger simmering underneath his skin. “I asked you to cheer her up, not bring her to the hospital.”

“I’m fine. You don’t need to talk about me in front of me,” I protest, and Sebastian’s whiskey eyes soften as they meet mine.

“Lia, I’m sorry, but please, go home,” he begs, shaking his head, looking at Chris. “Take her home now.”

My jaw drops. I don’t need his permission to go anywhere. I open my mouth to argue, but Chris beats me to it.

“No. Sebastian, she’s miserable at the house. Owen is her brother, and she wants to see him. We’re already here, so just do the alpha male shit later,” Chris snaps, standing his ground. For a moment, I expect Bash to lash back, yet his shoulders simply sink in defeat as he drags a hand through his dark hair, and he steps out of the way.

I adjust my sling, drawing his attention to me and my stupid sunglasses. “How’s your head?” he questions, scanning over me, but I don’t know how to feel right now.

“It’s fine,” I say softly, walking past him before he decides to change his mind, and carry me out of here against my will. Blake is standing outside the door, her auburn hair twisted up on her head as she drowns in one of Owen’s sweatshirts. Her eyes echo the same haunted look I’ve been noticing in Sebastian’s when he stares off into space, but the bags under her eyes are more prominent.

Fuck, I don’t know what to say to her. Almost like she can sense my awkwardness, she smiles faintly. “Hi, Lia. He just took his meds a little bit ago, so he shouldn’t be in pain.He’ll be coherent a little bit longer so you guys can chat. Just…just don’t take anything he says right now too personally, okay?”

What is that supposed to mean?

I can feel Sebastian and Chris hover behind me, but I lean forward to hug her carefully. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“Me too.”

The light in Owen’s room is dimmed so I move the sunglasses to sit on top of my head as my brain tries to process the sight in front of me. His leg is propped on pillows, but it’s the metal rods sticking out of his leg connecting to a cage that draw my immediate attention. His wrist is in a cast, but I can’t look away from the leg. I suck in a sharp breath, unable to mask the horror I know is on my face when he turns his head to look at me. I’m momentarily relieved to see his face is unmarred aside from the bandage around his head, but it flashes through my brain how his body lay on the ground motionless.

“It’s pretty ugly, isn’t it?” he asks flatly.

I could lie and try to tell him it doesn’t look that bad, but I don’t think it’ll be any use. My face already said everything, and lying to Owen isn’t going to help.

“It is,” I say softly, stealing another glance at the contraption surrounding his leg. My brain might be concussed, but it’s finally dawning on me how critical Owen’s condition must have been. “Owen…I’m sorry,” I stutter, finally understanding why I wasn’t allowed to see him.

Owen clears his throat, grimacing in pain as the monitors beep steadily in the background. “Stare if you want. It’ll be like this for a while. It doesn’t make sense to pretend it didn’t happen.”

It feels stupid to ask if he’s okay, because he’s very clearly not. “What all did they do?” I ask cautiously, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.

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