Joelle Morrow has her focus set on the future. As an up-and-coming lingerie designer, she's overcome multiple setbacks on the road to achieving her dream of opening her own boutique but has yet to be knocked down, leaving her no time to think about...
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This couldn't be happening.
This couldn't be happening.
This couldn't be happening.
And yet it was.
It didn't matter how many times the four words floated through my head, because it changed nothing. I hadn't seen the asshole coming, and though I only had a vague recollection of the hit, I knew it'd done some damage.
Drifting into consciousness, there was a dull pounding behind my temples as I blinked my eyes open. The makings of a hospital room greeted me—white walls, a dull beeping, and the overwhelming smell of antiseptic—and as I attempted to shuffle around in the bed I'd been given, a searing pain flared up my right leg.
Something between a groan and a hiss fell from my dry lips, bringing the conversation Isla and Cameron were having across the room to a sudden stop. Before I clenched my eyes shut once more, I saw their blurry faces turn my way with shock.
Soft footsteps sounded against the tile floor before I felt Isla's hand rest gently on top of mine. "Seb?" she asked carefully. "Are you awake?"
"What the fuck do you mean am I awake?" I replied, my voice gravelly and hushed. "I opened my eyes, didn't I?"
"That's not what she meant, Seb." The wheels of Cameron's chair squeaked as he pushed himself closer to the bed. When he didn't immediately continue, I exhaled slowly, forcing my eyes open halfway to see the troubled expression he wore. "You've been in and out of it for nearly a day."
My forehead scrunched up in confusion, worsening my headache. "What do you mean?"
They both appeared wary as they glanced at one another, and suddenly, a series of hazy memories crept back inside my head. Ones of a restless ride on a gurney and an uncomfortable CT scan. I vaguely recalled getting checked over by the nurses and asking lucid questions about all I didn't understand, but now, with the worry inside my chest growing by the second, I was afraid to hear what had truly happened.
Before I could get an answer however, the door flew open and Henry stepped inside.
"I finally got some fucking information out of the doctor and—" He stopped short when he noticed I was no longer unconscious, relief flooding his expression. "Seb. You're awake."
"Yeah," I forced out, grimacing as I used all the strength I could muster to push myself into a sitting position. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious."
There was no smile or laugh in response to my attempt at lightening the mood, but the change in his demeanor was instant. "Well, since you're awake," Henry said, stone-faced as his nostrils flared, "then maybe you can tell me where the hell your head was at during that last period. You skated the entire game as though you were a force to be reckoned with, and then it was like you decided to check out." His skin reddened as anger overtook him. "Seriously, Seb, it didn't even look like you saw the guy charging straight at you until he managed to take you out."
