Page 81 of Nightmare

“What the fuck?”

Fury’s shocked voice fills my ears, but even that sounds as though it’s ringing and high pitched, almost as if he’s far away.

My head burns, like a whole fucking lot.

Hazel is screeching, but I’m struggling not to black out.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Colt barks. “Hey.”

Rough hands slap at my cheeks as I try to focus on his face above me. This is bad. It feels bad, at least. I close my eyes again, moaning as it feels as though someone is shoving a sharp pick into my skull. Warm liquid coats my cheek, and I’m afraid I know what that is.

It’s blood.

“Fuck.”

Western’s gruff voice fills my ears.

“Hey.”

I can’t open my eyes.

I can still hear Hazel screeching.

“Hospital,” Colt orders. “Now.”

I don’t hear anything else after that.

My world goes dark.

~*~*~*~*~

“SO, THE TWO OF YOUgot into an altercation?”

Staring groggily at the police officer in front of me, I’m trying my best to give a statement. When we were both brought into the hospital, they had to report the incident. Of course, being the club that is involved, the police were right here. Hazel has been placed in the bed beside me, which must be some sort of cruel joke.

“She was fucking my husband!” Hazel yells, the curtain between us is not closed.

“Can you make her be quiet,” I moan, gripping my head. “And I wasn’t doing anything, they’re not together.”

“That’s what he told you! We were having a break. He’s a liar.”

I hope she’s the one lying, because if that’s true, I’m going to be more than a little angry.

“Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

I glance up at the officer again and go over the entire event. Hazel continues to yell curses and correct me, but I ignore her. Once my statement has been taken, the officer closes the curtain and leaves. It is no way near enough to keep her seething voice from travelling over to me. I have no clue where Western has gone, and after the doctors saw Hazel and I, we were told we’d be staying here overnight for observation. I haven’t seen him since.

“He’s a liar, you know,” Hazel’s voice comes through the curtain, a touch less angry.

That’s a surprise.

“I’m not doing this, Hazel,” I mutter, closing my eyes and trying to sink as far into the pillow as I can.

I’ve got two decent sized cuts on my head that required stitches, one on my forehead and one at the back, a bruised eye, and my body is aching all over but thankfully nothing is broken. Hazel suffered a broken arm and has a few bruises on her face and body. We were lucky, according to the doctor, because he assured us it could have been far worse.

“When you fuck somebody else’s husband, you have to do this,” she snaps.

“You and I both know you left. We also know that your marriage wasn’t even real. It was a paid situation to save face.”

---