I don’t know if I let go or if I jumped. Hell, maybe my limbs just stopped working. I hit the ground with a hard smack, but I didn’t linger. Rolling with the impact, I got up and started running.
People were screaming. Sirens pierced the air. The announcer was saying something, but it wasn’t the voice I was listening for.
As I weaved through the people, the vehicles, and whatever else stood in my way, I stared at the wreckage. I waited to see his body walk out of the huge clouds of smoke. I looked for his outline lit by the growing flames.
He didn’t appear.
He didn’t speak.
I couldn’t remember the last thing we said to each other before he got in that car.
Vomit ripped up my esophagus. My eyes watered from the velocity of it. I forced it back down and kept running.
I felt hands trying to shove me back.
I felt my skin break and stinging pain across my knuckles.
Flames. Destruction. Desperation.
Why can’t I see him? Hear him?
Why can’t I feel him?
More singeing pain scorched me, and close by, someone screamed. They didn’t stop screaming.
Restraints were shackled around me, but there was no restraining a rabid tiger.
I fought and clawed until the only cage surrounding me was the one my lover was also in.
He was there, limp and unresponsive, body cradled by the perilous claws of death. I was being taunted. Challenged.
The first wave of agony penetrated my shield of determination. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I collapsed, momentarily crippled.
Death was indeed the most wicked opponent.
Still, even in that moment, my eyes found Drew just before the savage lick of flames built a wall between us.
Death would have to do better than that if it wanted my entire life.
* * *
Perfection isn’t an illusion.
I met it, held it in my hands.
But then it slipped right through.
3
Drew
* * *
Some drivers would tell you that racing is an addiction. The rush you get from flying over the pavement, the high from this kind of speed equals the same chemical reaction in the brain a man gets from gambling or drugs.
You know what else addiction can bring?
Life’s end.
In my ear, T croaked my name. I heard him plead for the sound of my voice.
I tried so hard to answer, so fucking hard to let him know I was still here.
My body and mind didn’t obey. It was almost like they weren’t mine to command any longer.
I never realized how heavy a price addiction could have… until it cost me Trent.
4
Trent
* * *
I was numb.
But I hurt so goddamn bad.
How could I feel both?
I guess some agony couldn’t be masked even by insurmountable trauma. I sat here, alive, staring at two wide swinging doors that were achingly still, but everything inside me had been brutally scraped out and tossed away like rotten trash.
The only reason I was still breathing was because my heart hadn’t been inside my chest when I was hollowed out. My heart didn’t reside inside me at all. Right now, it lay on a gurney, fighting for his life.
If his heart failed him, mine would be there to keep him safe.
I would offer up my own life to make sure Drew had his. I would give up every last drop of blood, every breath in my body, and serve my soul to Satan himself.
Not Drew.
Anyone. Anything. But not him.
One door swung open, and a nurse dressed in scrubs stepped out. The chair skittered across the floor with the force I used getting up. Her footsteps stuttered, and when I advanced toward her, she cowered back, a look of alarm crossing her features.
“How is he?” I asked, my voice strangely hoarse.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“How is he?” I demanded.
“I-I don’t know who you’re asking about.”
“Drew Forrester. He was brought in from a car accident,” I said, impatient.
A little of the alarm slipped from her eyes, and interest replaced it. “The race car driver?”
“He’s mine!” I roared. “Tell me how he is!”
She started inching to the side. “I wasn’t in there with him.”
My whole body slumped, and sorrow so vacant and scary began to take over.
“Jesus,” someone swore close by, and suddenly, my sagging weight was supported. “Trent!”
He had a familiar voice.
“Security!” someone else bellowed.
“Seriously? He’s half out of his mind with grief. Just look at him! Why hasn’t anyone called him a doctor?”
Even though the nurse’s voice was the most unfamiliar one, it was the only one I really paid attention to. “He was very angry. I told him I didn’t know the patient status.” She quickly tried to explain. The entire conversation was a waste of time.
A helpless noise scraped my already raw throat. “Please,” I pleaded, swaying on my feet. “Just tell me if he’s still alive.”
“Christ.” The voice closest to me swore again. “Could you just see? Consider it a personal favor.”
“Right away, Mr. Anderson.” The nurse agreed and rushed back through the doors.
I tried to follow, but my brother’s arms wrapped around me from behind. “Just wait. She’s coming right back.”
“Rome,” I whispered.
“I know.”
He couldn’t possibly know just how bad I hurt right now. Just how fragile the entire world seemed. But I knew he cared.
Braeden stood right beside Romeo, both of them slightly behind me. Romeo didn’t let go of me, and I didn’t try to move away.
I stared at those doors.
I waited.
My chest ached so bad. It was a pain I’d never felt before. What if that pain meant my heart was failing Drew? What if it meant when she came back, it would be to tell me something that would absolutely kill me?
The door swung open, and my brothers drew in a collective breath. I didn’t breathe, though. I would never take another breath if Drew didn’t either.
“He’s still in surgery,” she reported. “He’s alive.”
A deep sob ripped out of my throat, and I would have collapsed had it not been for Rome. He lifted me, and Braeden stepped in front of me, holding his palms out as if he thought I would fall again.
I did.
I fell against his chest and started to cry.
Without hesitation, his arms wrapped around me in a tight hug.
He didn’t hug as tight as Drew. No one hugged better than Drew.
He’s still alive.
Another wrenching sob ripped out of me, and I crushed the shirt against B’s back in my fist.
“He’s alive.” Braeden assured me, letting me practically rip his clothes. “He’s going to stay that way.”
My entire body shook as I cried, but I wasn’t embarrassed. I didn’t have that emotion inside me. I might not ever again. In fact, I felt immeasurable shame that I might have ever been embarrassed about any of the feelings Drew brought out in me.
Something large and warm wrapped around me from behind. As I sniffled into B’s shirt, I realized it was Romeo and that they both were hugging me. In those moments as I crumbled while Drew fought for his life, it was my brothers who held what was left of me together.
5
Trent
* * *
“Trent?” A small, tentative voice called me.
Even in the panicked, out-of-body, and ragged state I was in, it was a voice that couldn’t be ignored. Lifting my head, I looked over Braeden’s shoulder to where Rimmel stood. She was drowning in Romeo’s hoodie, her hair was a wreck, and her eyes were puffy and red.
I didn’t have the voice to ask her what she wanted. My sister understood.
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“I’ve brought a nurse. You need to get looked at—”
Despite her gentle, caring tone, I bristled. “I’m not leaving.”
“You can just go down the hall—”
“I said no!” I barked, shoving back from my brothers.
Romeo laid a hand on my shoulder, and I shoved it off. “Don’t start with me, Rome.”
“You’re bleeding all over yourself. And your wrist…” Rimmel pleaded, taking a step toward me.
The second she came closer, Braeden and Romeo both held out an arm in front of me. I didn’t blame them. I was wild right now, and she was as gentle as a lamb.
The nurse beside Rimmel glanced between us all as though she wasn’t sure what to do.
“Wouldn’t it be better to get that taken care of while Drew is still in surgery? When he gets out, you’re going to want to be at his side… He’s going to be upset when he wakes up and sees you bleeding everywhere.”
A pang of hurt pierced me.
“If you get an infection, you won’t be able to see the patient,” the nurse added. “It will put him at risk for one too.”
“Just get me a Band-aid.” I compromised.
“You need more than a Band-aid!” Rimmel exclaimed. All fight seemed to drain out of her then, making her sway on her feet.
Romeo was at her side instantly, supporting all her weight.
“Just go,” he told me firmly. “The rest of us won’t move from this spot. If anything happens, we’ll come get you.”
“Please Trent.” Ivy begged. I hadn’t even realized she was here.
Turning, I saw her sitting close by, her face stained with tears, and the front of her top wet from where they fell. Her blond hair was, for once, a wreck, and all her makeup was smeared.
Drew’s sister. The person closest to him, right after me.
Making a sound, I went to her. Braeden rushed after me, but I shoved him back. When I dropped onto my knees in front of her chair, she fell into my open arms and started openly weeping.
My throat was blocked with pain and emotion. I couldn’t swallow, barely able to draw a breath.
“He’s going to be fine,” Ivy said against the side of my neck. “My brother is way too stubborn.”
Flashbacks of the way he’d looked lying limp on the pavement assaulted me. Covered in blood. White as a ghost. No life. No expression…
“Trent?” Rimmel said from behind.
Abruptly, I stood up, looking at the nurse through blurred eyes. “Just down the hall, right?”
“Yes, I’ve got it set up for you already.”
I followed her direction, turning back to look at the OR doors more than once.
“Sit here, please,” the woman instructed, and I moved on autopilot, doing as requested. “You have glass in your hands and arms. I’ll need to remove it.”
“Go ahead,” I answered, staring at the door.
“And you have second-degree burns on your wrist. How did this happen?”
“What?”
Ripping my eyes from the door, I glanced down, noticing the state of my wrist and hand for the first time. The flesh was bubbled up, raw and oozing. Nicks and cuts were all over my forearms, and I definitely saw some glass.
I guess I was bleeding everywhere.
Not that it mattered.
“What caused the burns?” she repeated patiently.
Thick smoke stole the oxygen from the air while roaring flames tried to create a wall between me and Drew. I didn’t need air, but I would die without him.
Forcing back the crippling anxiety, I dragged myself forward, reaching for my guy. The smell of singed flesh filled the enclosed space, but I ignored it.
Shaking fingers closed around the sleeve of his drive suit, and I gripped on for dear life. His outfit was flame-retardant. At least it was against these flames that had yet to grow.
My body burned and shook with effort as I pulled Drew toward me with one hand. He was caught. The harness meant for safety was now holding him hostage.
Suddenly, the door on his side was ripped away, and emergency workers reached inside.
“It’s too mutilated over here. He’s trapped!”
“The harness,” I yelled, praying my hoarse words could be heard over the fire extinguishers and sirens. “Cut it the fuck off!”
Drew’s body was like a ragdoll being tossed around as they roughly and swiftly cut through the binds. The second he was free, his body slumped toward me, and I caught his head before it could fall into the flames.
Shaking and dizzy, I held his head away from the fire as I briefly wondered where the fuck his helmet had gone. There was blood. So much blood.
A blast of white filled the interior, and the flames trying to devour us were snuffed out.
“Hold on. We’ll come to your side,” someone yelled.
I wasn’t waiting. I’d had to squeeze through wreckage and crawl through glass to get to him. The fire might be out now, but the intense smell of gasoline permeating the air created a sense of urgency.
Still cradling his head, I reached forward with my other hand, feeling the skin on my arm rip.
“I’m getting you out of here, Forrester,” I vowed and started towing him closer.
He was dead weight, and the car was crushed around us. Tears streamed down my face, and vomit rose up the back of my throat again as I towed him out of the wreckage, trying to be quick but careful.
When his head and shoulders cleared the car, I collapsed back into random pieces of wreckage littering the ground, Drew’s head cradled in my lap.
I might have blacked out after. Or maybe my brain refused to recall anything else.
It didn’t matter, because Drew made it out.
“Ah, there was a fire in the wreckage,” I finally answered, hollow.
“You were in the car too?” she asked, surprised.
I shook my head. “I crawled inside to get him.”
“Isn’t that what the emergency responders were there for?”
My eyes snapped up to her, intensity radiating off me with a menacing vibe. “If your entire life was lying inside a bashed-in car that was literally on fire, would you leave it up to a stranger to save them?”
She cleared her throat, lowering her gaze. “He’s very lucky to have someone who cares so much.”
“I’m the lucky one,” I echoed, turning all my attention back to the door.
What if my luck is finally running out?
“Are you sure you don’t want some pain medication? Perhaps a numbing injection so I can clean and wrap all these wounds…”
“Just do it,” I said. “I won’t feel it anyway.”
She didn’t argue, and I ignored her while she worked. Every shadow, every body that walked by the room we were in, made my body tense.
I don’t know how long it took her to do whatever she was doing, but a little later, I felt her patting my arm.
My gaze cut to where she was touching me, then lifted.
Slowly, she withdrew her hand as if she knew she’d just been poking a sleeping tiger.
“I apologize, but you weren’t answering.”
I made a sound. “What?”
“You need stitches,” she explained, gesturing to one of my palms, which had a deep cut on the meaty part below my thumb. “The glass went very deep.”
“No,” I declared. “I don’t have time.”
“You will just continue to bleed.”
“Wrap it.” My voice was impatient. “I need to go.”
“I wouldn’t recommend—”
I silenced the unwanted advice with a single glance.
“I’ll just wrap it.” She relented.
Ivy and Braeden stepped around the doorframe, and I shoved up to my feet, knocking over the small tray of bloody scraps. “How is he?”
“Blood…” Ivy began.
Everything around me swam. The absolute worst thoughts started attacking me. “What?” I asked, reaching out to steady myself on the chair.
“The hospital doesn’t have any more of what he needs.” She finished, and everything around me came back into focus.
“Take mine,” I declared, swinging around to look at the nurse.
“We would need to see if you’re a match—”
“We are.” I interrupted. “I have the same blood type as him.”
“Are you certain?”
I made a rude sound. “Of course! Stop wasting time and tell me what to do.”
“I’m probably a match too,” Ivy said.
I held up my hand. “I’ve got this.”
“Are you sure you should be donating blood to Drew when you’ve already lost some?” Ivy worried, pointing at my hand.
I noted the freshly dripping blood.
“Stitch this up,” I told the nurse, planting back in my seat.
“You said you didn’t want stitches.”
“Well, now I do.” Before, it didn’t matter if I bled or not. But now… now that Drew needed my blood, I wouldn’t waste another drop.
“I’ll numb—”
“No,” I declared. “Do it now. The faster the better.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
I laughed. Nothing—and I mean nothing—would ever hurt worse than Drew’s life hanging in limbo.
“Can I donate the blood here?”
She shook her head once. “You’ll have to go down to the lab.”
I glanced around at Braeden. “Can you go tell them to get ready? Give them my name and birthday. All my info is in their system already. Drew’s too.” I cleared my throat. “We got tested together last year. They’ll see we’re a match.” My gut twisted, stabbing hot pain cutting through my middle. I’d always made sure he was protected. That he was safe.
Just look at us now.
“I’m going now.” Placing his palms on Ivy’s shoulders, he leaned down to look into her eyes. “You stay here with your brother, okay, blondie? I’ll be right back.”
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes.
Braeden disappeared, and I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for the stitches to be finished.
#Fate Page 2
