Page 81 of Truck You

I instantly deflate and rush to her. Taking her in my arms, I hug her gently, careful not to put any pressure on her injured arm, and whisper in her ear. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she answers. “They’re insisting on taking me to the hospital. Come with me?”

“Of course.”

She takes my hand with her free arm and tugs me toward the ambulance. I’m still angry about her injured arm and the blood on her face, but a lot of that anger dissipated when I heard her voice and saw her standing.

She’s going to be fine. And that’s what matters most.

Chapter20

When everything falls apart, stay calm.

Sophia

Dark, cramped spaces never make me uneasy. I’m not claustrophobic. At least, I didn’t think I was. But being forced to lie still inside this dark tube is really getting to me.

My anxiety is high, and I can’t seem to calm my breathing.

I know this is protocol anytime someone gets in an accident during a race, but how many tests do they have to run? The X-rays took forever. Then they carted me over to have a CT scan. I thought I was done after that, but I guess the doctor on-call ordered an MRI as well.

I get it. I really do. My helmet cracked. That means I hit my head really hard. But my head doesn’t hurt. It’s my fucking arm that’s bothering me. And being strapped to a gurney for hours unable to move while they run all these tests is only making it hurt worse.

All I want to do is sit up and stretch. Stretching would do wonders for my body right now.

I think being stationary like this for so long is doing me more harm than good. My back is stiff, and my legs are restless. And let’s not talk about all the horrible thoughts that keep running through my mind.

What if they find something wrong with me? Just because I don’t feel injured doesn’t mean there’s not something invisible lurking within. I keep telling myself to relax, but it’s hard when I’ve got no one to talk to. If only I could see my friends and family. They’d help keep me calm.

But I haven’t seen anyone since being checked in. As soon as we got here, they made Mac stay in the waiting room until I was transferred to my own room. That feels like hours ago. I went from triage to test after test and haven’t been carted back yet.

“Sophia, are you okay?” The technician’s voice rings through my ears. Why are my ears ringing? I shake my head, desperate to run my hands over my ears, but I can’t lift my arms. “Sophia?” He repeats.

“I’m okay,” I say, but my voice doesn’t sound okay. Not even to me. I sound weak and scared.

“Take a deep breath for me, then try to relax. This will only take about fifteen minutes. Can you hold still for that long?”

“Yeah, just give me a second.” I slide my uninjured arm up and rub my hand over my face. It’s tight, but the motion makes me feel a little better.

“Do you need to come out for a minute?” he asks.

I shake my head before I realize he can’t really see me. “No, I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”

I take a few deep, calming breaths and focus on happy thoughts. At least I have lots of them to keep me distracted.

Things these past couple of weeks with Mac have been good. Really, really good. I still sense he’s keeping some of his past from me, but our connection is strong. He’s trusting me more and more every day. One day, I’ll earn all of his story.

I just hope this accident doesn’t push him into protection overdrive. He was finally starting to calm down with me. Even his jealous streak hasn’t been as bad lately. Last week, I’d managed to have an entire conversation with Tanner when Mac and I were picking up lunch at Frank’s Frosty Kreme.

It was obvious Tanner was trying to get a rise out of Mac. But Mac didn’t freak out. He sat in the car and waited like a good boy. He glared a lot, but he never got out and did his typical possessive, growly-bear thing that sends shivers through my body.

It’s ridiculous how much I love his possessive, growly-bear side. I never thought I’d bethatgirl.

I’m independent and strong-willed.

I don’t need a man to protect me.

I protect myself.

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