Page 146 of Charming Like Us
Come on.
I hesitate to comply and leave my subject. But I say, “On it.” And then a large crash echoes from up the green. Near hole three.
Oscar.
Clubhouse or Oscar?
We Are Callowayor my boyfriend? He has a lot of people on his side, a lot of bodyguards there to help whatever just happened, but the crash was loud. Fear and worry propel me in his direction.
I take off running to hole three. With adrenaline pumping, the Steadicam suddenly feels lighter than air.
29
OSCAR OLIVEIRA
“Oscar to Security,I need a medic. I need a medic.” I repeat twice and add my location so everyone knows, despite my controlled voice, that shit is bad.
A golf cart just capsized and rolled.
My vigilant ass is set on hot coals. I’m running with all I have over to the slope that the golf cart just tumbled down. Twinkle lightsbarelyilluminate the area. It’s dim, and I’m only nearest the crash-site having just dealt with paparazzi.
A couple Alpha guards are still restraining cameramen who snuck in the event.
“Is anyone hurt?!” I yell, racing in a quick descent to the flipped cart. “Luna?! Tom?! Eliot!?” I saw all three on the golf cart before they crashed.
Just what I never wanted to see happen again.I don’t care if it’s in fucking golf-cart-sized form. I never wanted to come up on another crash.
That was one of the worst days of my life.
And I’d bet a solid grand most in Alpha, Epsilon, and Omega would say the same.
An extreme amount of adrenaline keeps me focused as I squat down to the cart. “Can you hear me?!”Motherfuck, someone answer me.I need to lift the golf cart off them in case they’re being crushed.
“Uh…” Tom suddenly rolls woozily out from underneath the frame. Grass stains his white shirt, and a trickle of blood runs from a forehead cut.
“Eliot! Luna!” I call out.
“I’m pinned,” Eliot grunts.
“Ow, ow,” Luna winces.
It’s hard to see them in the dark.
Quickly, I widen my stance and grip the golf cart. Quinn appears at my side before I lift. He’s out of breath like he jogged over, and he grabs the other end.
“One, two, three,” I count, and we heave the golf cart up together. We hold it steady.
Eliot elbow-crawls out, but not before ensuring Luna can follow. She pushes herself with her legs, cradling her arm against her glittery jumpsuit.
My muscles burn while I keep a firm grip.
Eliot looks okay, but Luna’s bone is one-hundred-percent fucked. Radius, ulna—her forearm is painfully bent. Once they’re clear of the golf cart, my baby bro and I right it on its wheels.
“Luna!” Maximoff is running towards his little sister in a full-on sprint down the slope. The Hale prince is out-running Farrow, who’s a few feet behind, a med bag strapped to his shoulder. Ripley’s not with them, so I assume someone in Maximoff’s family must be holding the baby.
“Her arm, Redford.”
His focused eyes ping to me as he passes by, a small, serious acknowledgement that this was too close to what we both experienced together. Thank God it’s not nearly as bad.
