My ears are ringing but the pain hasn’t registered, not yet anyway and just as I try to move, to look around and assess what I can, something else crashes into the back of the best and sends us clear across to the other side of the four way.
The seatbelt keeps me in place but I crack my forehead against the steering wheel, a thin stream of blood starting to blur my vision but none of it quells the need I have to get to my people.
But I can’t move, and I’m starting to get dizzy.
So much so that when I finally force my head to turn, the visual of our girl dangling over me, shards of glass from her blown out window littering the right side of her face, her limp body hanging from the passenger seat by only her seatbelt as her blood drips toward me has me fading.
Until I realize Lucky is between us.
Out cold and covered in blood, Lucius is folded against the windshield, the back of his head dead center over a massive crack in the glass.
As my eyes get heavy, as the pain in my own head starts to take over, all I can think about is the band.
Fourteen years of feelings and memories play through my mind like a video set to fast forward. The moment we met Leonor all the way to the last few nights; the last time I woke up to the four of them, our first show in years, every second inbetween rushes through me and as I start to pass out, I start to pray for the first time since my mama died.
Please don’t let this be the end.
LEONOR
“Hey, princess.”
My brow furrows at the sound of Pete’s voice because I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or it’s really him.
Until I feel fingers gently caressing my hair.
Forcing my eyes open, I slowly shift around, turning from the edge of the bed to face him before pushing up on my forearms.
I blink a few times, clearing the sleep from my eyes, and my entire body sags in relief as Pete gives me a very tired smile.
“Hi, love.” I scoot my chair closer, wincing at the way the movement hurts almost everywhere. Then I decide to say fuck it, ignoring everything the nurses have been bitching at me over since I left my own hospital room in search of one of my boys. “Is this ok?”
Peter nods as he scoots a bit, lifting his arm for me as I crawl into bed with him. “Don’t care if it hurts. I need you right here.”
Softly cupping his cheek, I press a kiss to his lips, closing my eyes tightly to hide my tears.
Waking up screaming in another hospital room, panicked and unable to immediately remember what happened for the second time in my life? Yeah, that was horrible and I’d be happy to never do that again but when I did start to remember what happened, that made it ten times worse.
“You ok, Leo?”
I push a few of his dreads over his shoulder, making eye contact the best I can because I know he needs it. “Yeah.”
Pete just arches a brow. Painfully, judging by the little flinch.
“Miraculously, nothing is broken, I’m just banged up.” Which is the truth, shockingly.
The entire right side of my face is full of cuts, my right shoulder and arm is about the same, I have whiplash, and my sternum is bruised as fuck from the seatbelt but I came away from our accident relatively unharmed.
We all did, all considering what happened and how much worse it could have been.
Those amber eyes search mine for a beat, the burst blood vessels in Pete’s right one making my heart squeeze all over again until he licks his dry lips to ask, “Is Lucky… Lucius, is he…”
“He’s ok.” A wave of relief visibly comes over him as I kiss him again. “You two have matching head wounds and concussions, and he’s recovering from surgery a few hours ago, but Lucky is ok.”
“Surgery?”
I nod as I settle against Pete. “His shoulder is fucked up. Nothing permanent in terms of function but when he hit the windshield, the way he was thrown and landed, it dislocated it and tore his rotator cuff. He should be close to coming out of the recovery room, actually.”
Thank God for that, too.
