Page 17 of Beautifully Shattered
The voice from the doorway hits me like a lightning strike, and I swear, time stops.
My eyes snap up, locking on the wheelchair gliding into my room, pushed by JD.
I barely register him, because in that chair is someone I was sure had died.
“J-Jols?”
She giggles. “Yeah, I don’t look that bad, do I? Am I really that hard to recognise?”
Tears explode behind my eyes, spilling down my cheeks as I stumble off the bed, my knees nearly buckling beneath me as I take my first step.
Ringo is right there, catching me before I hit the ground, his powerful arms helping me close the distance.
I crash into Jols sitting in the wheelchair, clinging to her like I’ll never let her go again.
She hisses, and I jerk back, my eyes going wide as I take her in.
“Shit. Sorry,” I gasp, panic rising as my gaze snaps to JD, but he just smirks like he expected this.
“It’s okay,” Jols half laughs, half groans. “I’m on the mend.”
She’s wearing a hospital gown like mine, but I catch a dressing peeking past the neckline.
“You got shot… I thought…” The lump in my throat swells. “I thought you were dead.”
She shrugs, like that little detail is barely worth mentioning.
“I’ve been shot before. It doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think.”
Ringo scoffs from behind me. “That was your body going into shock.”
Jols just shrugs, shooting me a lazy grin.
“I’m not so easy to kill.”
I stare at my friend. The one who reminds me so much of Lexi.
Her long, dark hair is braided back messily, like someone tried but didn’t really know what they were doing.
JD, probably. Or a nurse who gave it a half-arsed go.
But her eyes? That sharp, striking blue is still there, and her cheeks are rosy. Alive. Glowing like the fight never left her.
It makes me wonder what I look like, and for a brief moment I worry, but then just as fleeting, the care slips from me.
Nothing like that matters anymore.
“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”
Jols scowls. “Uh-uh. I won’t let you do that bullshit, Abbey. It’s not your fault. My fault. Or Ringo’s fault.” She stabs a finger in my direction. “The men who did this? It’sallonthem. The fuckers that raped you. The cops who ignored your statement and dragged Allen into it. Every last bit of it is on them.”
Slowly, I nod, knowing she’s right, but still, it’s all centred around me.
My head starts to swim, a wave of dizziness washing over me, and I stumble.
Ringo is right there again, his hands strong and steady as he guides me back a few steps and lowers me into a chair.
“Take it easy, Abs,” he mutters quietly, concern lacing his voice.
