Page 150 of Twisted Collide

“There is no need to fight. We’re a team,” Coach Robert tells us.

“Not when he’s speaking to my sister like that.” I grunt.

Molly’s small hand touches mine for a second, giving me a squeeze. “While I appreciate the big brother act, I can handle myself.”

She can, but I’ve spent my whole life protecting her. I’m not going to stop now.

I finally nod and sit back down.

Aiden turns to Coach. “Any news?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Well, maybe if we knew what happened,” Hudson starts up again, and Molly practically growls at him.

“She fell. Want to know why? ’Cause we were arguing. But I didn’t push her. She was on the ledge, walking, and she fell.” I lift my hands and bury my head in them. “I couldn’t get to her in time.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Robert places his hand on my shoulder, and I’m surprised he doesn’t ask what we were fighting about. I’m surprised none of them do. Then again, they’ve always respected my space. “Accidents happen.”

But it was my fault.

I’m the reason she was there.

I’m the reason she fell.

And if I were a better man, none of this would have happened. She would have been okay if I had just stayed out of her life.

I’m not good for her.

Just then, the ER door opens, and a doctor walks out.

“Father of Josephine Moreau?”

Robert moves to him quickly. “I’m Josie’s father.”

I move closer to hear, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to make out his words with the way my heart pounds in my chest.

The doctor nods to Robert before speaking. “Your daughter suffered a concussion. She also has a pretty nasty gash on her hairline. That’s where the bleeding came from. We ran a CT scan to check for any internal bleeding or swelling in the brain, and thankfully, everything looks normal.”

“She’s going to be okay?” Robert’s body trembles.

“Yes, she has sprained her ankle, and we do want to keep her here for observation due to the blood loss and concussion, but I expect her to make a full recovery.”

Relief floods me at first, but then it’s soon replaced with a thick guilt that chokes me from the inside.

“Can I see her?”

“Of course. She’s in room 505.”

“Thank you,” he says before he turns and nods a thank-you to us as well, then he follows the doctor to his daughter.

Now that I know she’ll be okay, I can’t stay.

“I have to go.” I head toward the door.

“Dane, wait.” Molly comes rushing at me.

“I can’t.”

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