Page 113 of Breakaway Hearts

“Yes.” Her voice is shaky but a bit stronger than it was a second ago. “I’m leaving right now.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

I hang up and step forward, and the nurse directs me through the emergency room. It’s filled with noise, tinted with the copper stench of blood and the sickly sweet smell of medicine. Patients cry or talk in hushed voices. A woman groans in the background.

Callie’s been in a place like this, all alone? My heart burns at the thought of how scared she must be—if she’s even conscious.

I walk as if in a trance to a bed near the end of the packed room. It’s surrounded by privacy curtains, but I know it doesn’t keep out the violent sounds of the place.

Fuck.

My fingers shake as I tug the curtains back.

“Callie,” I breathe as soon as I see her. She’s awake, thank fuck. There’s a bandage around her head, and a bruise near her eye. I can’t see her body beneath the blankets, but I’m sure it’s probably equally banged up. At least there aren’t any casts, I tell myself. No broken bones.

“Reese,” she croaks.

“Firefly,” I breathe, leaning over her. I bury my face against her hair, then lean back, worried I’ll hurt her. Tears are pouring from my eyes, and I have no idea when I started crying. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m okay,” Callie whispers, her speech a little slower than usual. “Pretty bruised up, if you can’t tell. Also, pretty drugged up.” She chuckles lightly. “The pain medication here is no joke.”

“Are you in a lot of pain?”

“Not right now.” She tries to shake her head, then winces. “I was when the car hit me, though.”

“Fuck,” I rasp.

“Reese.” She reaches up to rest a hand on my cheek. “I’m okay, honestly. They just want to keep me here overnight because of the bump on my head. I have a concussion.”

Shit. I know plenty about those.

The doctor comes over at that moment, and I grill him for information, demanding to know what exactly they’ve done for her so far and if there’s anything else they can do.

He gives me a reassuring smile, explaining quickly that Callie’s injuries aren’t serious, but that they’re going to keep her overnight for observation. He tells me that they took an MRI and things looked normal, which allows me to breathe a little easier.

“Overall, she was very lucky,” he concludes. He fills me in on what meds Callie is being given, then leaves, saying a nurse will check on her in a bit.

“You’re not taking the bus anymore,” I tell Callie once the doctor walks away. “No more being a pedestrian. I’m driving you everywhere from now on. Or better yet, I’m buying you a car. Fuck, I’m buying you a tank.”

She laughs, but it’s not her usual, carefree laugh. She grimaces, as if eventhatcauses her pain. Then her eyes widen.

“Wait, how did the meeting go?” she asks. “With the company? The endorsement thing.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say immediately. I’m sure Sienna is pissed at me, and Sam probably is too. The reps from the company will be pissed about being stood up. I might even lose the deal. “None of that matters.”

“Of course it… matters,” Callie says, but her words are coming out softer and slower.

Her eyelids drift shut, and without once taking my gaze off her, I pull up a chair and sit beside her bed.

Chapter39

Callie

Ow. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.

My entire body aches, as if the worst hangover of my life has come back to haunt me. My ears ring. My head pounds like there’s a construction crew working on my skull. My arms and legs feel like puppet limbs, all heavy and useless.

When I open my eyes, bright fluorescent lights shock my senses, and distant beeping sounds and harried voices ram their way into my consciousness.

---