Page 38 of The Other Side of Wild
My blood is slowly replaced with ice; I start to feel clammy. Would he move back to Washington? What does this even mean? “Don’t freak out yet. And please don’t shut him out, Hannah. I may not know you, but I know he’s going to needyou to lean on.”
I’m trying my absolute hardest not to let myself spiral. “You’re not dependable; no one will ever need someone like you.” My dad’s voice busts through my thoughts like a ninja with nunchucks. Was the bravery I had to take the leap in vain? Was my dad right? Would I always just be the girl they had fun with until someone better came along?
“Hannah, deep breaths. I can hear you hyperventilating from here.” His voice come through like an annoyed growl.
“Can you please keep me updated? I don’t want to be in the way, and I’m sure he doesn’t want anyone else asking how he is every five seconds.” There’s a scratching sound on the other end like he’s rubbing his hand over his beard, then it stops, and I’m met with silence.
He groans, “You aren’t a burden, Hannah.” His voice is full of warmth; I can’t handle kind Tate right now.
“Please, just let me know how he’s doing.”
“Alright. I’ll let him know I talked to you.” I can breathe a little easier knowing he’ll keep me in the loop, but my chest still feels like it’s been lassoed and is being flung around by a bucking bronco.
“Thank you.” I hang up, my phone dropping to the floor, and I stare at the picture I have set as my screensaver. Greyson, with Harley’s face in his huge hands. His face is beaming like he’s the sole source of light to the world. I just want to know he’s okay; I need to know he’s okay.
I try to take a deep breath, but it gets caught in my throat, and a broken sob comes out instead. Abby’s by my side in seconds, pulling me into her as I wrap my arms around my knees and rest my head in between them. No one ever prepares you for the moment someone you care about gets hurt like this, but the worst part is, I’m on the complete opposite side of the country.
I couldn’t go even if I had a ticket in my hands; there were kids counting on me. I can’t miss the event we’ve spent months planning. But dang it, if I don’t want to jump ship, ignore all my responsibilities, and run right into his arms where I know he’d wrap me up and rest his cheek on the top of my head like he always does.
“How are you feeling?” My lips part in shock. It seems like an absurd question to ask.
“I’m not the one hurt.” Her eyes softened, and I know this look; it was the “you’re in denial and don’t want to acknowledge your feelings” look.
“Maybe not physically, but you’re biting your lip, running your hand up and down your arms, and I know for a fact you aren’t cold. You’re shaking, and your cheeks are flushed. I know you; start talking.”
What am I even supposed to say here that I’m terrified he’s really hurt? That he’s got a career-ending injury, and he’ll never play hockey again. That would kill him. Or maybe he’s been having panic attacks about something going wrong during this trip, and now it has. Or maybe it’s the more selfish truth. I’m worried that he’s got a child he’ll move heaven and earth for. Because that’s the kind of man he is, but where will that leave me?
“I just want him to be okay, Abs. That was a hard hit and not a legal one at that. It sucks being so far away, but Tatum said he’d give me updates as they came in.” She nods and hands me a bottle of water before walking off towards her room.
Pulling out my phone, I fired off a text just to let him know I was there. I can’t imagine how he must be feeling at the moment.
Hannah: I’m praying for you, Grey. I’m so sorry. Please
Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be there if you need me.
Chapter 20 – Greyson
“Why are you here, Kara?” I hear Tate’s voice, but it’s hushed, and my eyes feel too heavy to open. I, too, would like to know why she’s here. Actually, I’d like to know where I am, period. She mumbles something: it’s my mom who speaks up this time.
“If he wanted you to be a part of his life, I’m sure we’d all know about it.” You tell her, mama.
Wait, is she in Tampa? Oh. Sugar Honey Iced Tea. My eyes slam open, “Is she mine?” My throat is so scratchy it startles me for a second. The only thing I care to know is if that baby girl was mine.
“Can we talk for a second, alone?” She sounds timid, almost scared.
“Is she mine?” I feel my nostrils flare, my breathing rough and loud as we wait for her answer in the otherwise silent hospital room. “You lied to me before; don’t do it now. Not about this.”
“She’s not, she’s Brandon’s.” That landed like a sucker punch to the gut; Brandon was my roommate when I first moved here. My best friend. The one whose voice I heard right before I went down. The one who hit me from behind, pinning my shoulder to the boards before my head bounced off the glass. Just when things start looking up, the carpet gets pulled out from under me.
“Get out. I have nothing to say to you. Don’t contact me again.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Get out!” I don’t even recognize myself when I grab a cup filled with water and fling it at the door. The monitors I’m hooked up to start beeping frantically; nurses rush in to try and figure out how to get me to calm down, but she doesn’t leave.
She narrows her eyes as she pins me with a look that, at one point, would have stopped me dead in my tracks. “We aren’t done, G. We can talk when the peanut gallery isn’t around.” She turns on her heel and actually stomps out of the room.
Once the machines indicate my blood pressure isn’t about to send me into a stroke, my family walks back into the room. “Wanna tell me what that was about?” I turn toward my mom, who has her arms crossed over her chest and her right eyebrow raised. No, I don’t want to tell you anything right now. I want to be lying on the couch at Hannah’s house with her fingers running through my hair as I listen to her talk about anything and everything.