Page 113 of Desiring an Angel

My head rolled over the pillow again, bringing her beautiful bright eyes into view.

I smiled, my heart overflowing with love for her. “I’m not going anywhere…at least right now. Please find him?”

She released a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“Tell him I said he needs to apologize and beg your forgiveness for being an ass.”

Her soft giggle lightened the hovering sense of doom over my head. “He doesn’t listen to anyone.”

“He does with me when he’s vulnerable. And trust me.” I shifted on the bed, easing a sudden ache in my hip. “He definitely needs someone to help him deal with this…shit.” I waved my IV hand around.

Sky kissed my forehead. “I’ll go—if you promise to rest.”

“Gotta call my parents first. Is my cell around here?”

“The nurse put your belongings in the closet,” Sky told me and got up to move across the room for a narrow cabinet. She rifled through a large plastic bag that held my clothes. “My God, these stink like puke. I’m going to throw them in the bathroom and rinse them out when I get back. Here you go,” she murmured, handing me my phone.

Numbness tingled my fingers as I swiped the screen to life. “Twenty-two percent,” I muttered to myself, trying to blink myself to a full-capacity brain. “Good enough.”

“I’ll be back soon.” Another kiss to my forehead and Sky left my room for Rhett.

My mind was still a bit fuzzy for the upcoming conversation, but I didn’t want to wait to talk to my mom. She would be pissed that I’d allowed my circumstances to progress to such a state without informing her.

Mom answered—and hollered for my dad that I was on the phone before I could greet her.

“How are you, honey?” she asked.

“I crashed my car, hit my head, and I’m sick like Archer.”

Silence.

I rubbed at one of my eyes and blinked the white ceiling a little better into view. Had I enunciated my words enough? “Mom?”

“Ashton, what is going on?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“I crashed my car, hit my head, and I’m sick like Archer,” I repeated, slower, figuring she hadn’t made out my mumbled words the first time.

“I-I heard—is Rhett close by that I can talk to him?”

“He’s getting coffee.”

“I’m putting you on speaker so your father can hear. Where are you?”

“At the hospital—I don’t know which one. I wasn’t awake when they brought me in.” I closed my eyes against the dull ache beginning to throb in my head.

It was probably time for more pain meds. Fuzzy clouds sounded good. Comforting.

“What happened?”

“I got sick and threw up while driving. Guess I hit something. Not sure,” I murmured, wanting to sleep but forcing my eyelids to remain open.

“You’re alright though?”

“Headache. Concussion. No major injuries.”

“And what do you mean you’re sick like Archer?” Mom asked.

I blinked hard, bringing the white ceiling into focus against sweet darkness on the edges of my vision. “I have the same symptoms he did, but I’ve been living in denial—what else is new?” I snorted a laugh that sounded too sad to be happy. “I’ve been focused on getting Skylar pregnant to keep my mind occupied.”

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