“Come over so I can celebrate. The guys are on their way.”
“It’s getting late. I can come to you tomorrow?” I suggest.
“I want to see you, stay here for the night, and I will drop you to work in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Speak to Deeks. I’ll see you soon, pretty girl.”
I get changed out of my work clothes, find something to slip on, and quickly pack a small bag. I debate calling Deeks, but it’s nearly eleven p.m., and he looked tired. I leave my apartment to catch the tube.
It’s dark, and even though I can hear some of his guys laughing down the side of the building, I tug my hood up and walk across the car park, trying to keep out of sight. “Lauren?” Kelvin's deep voice carries, and I grimace because he will be annoyed at me. “Where are you going?” He sounds pissed off. I turn to face him as someone starts their car, their lights illuminating me. Lifting my arm, I shade my eyes as they wheelspin in my direction.“LAUREN!”
* * *
The last person I expect to see when I open my eyes is my brother, James. Frowning, I look around the room and try to piece together what is happening. His suit jacket is slung over his chair, and he is staring at the floor, bored stiff. I eye up the machinery and lift my aching hand to find a cannula attached. “James?” He startles and turns my way.
“She’s awake!” he announces, standing, but my dad barrels into view and gently folds me in his big arms.
“Oh, thank god. Lauren.” He sniffs into my hair.
“Be careful, Robert!” my mum admonishes and shuffles to the other side, cupping my hand and holding it tightly, her eyes filled to the brim with tears.
“Mum?”
“James, go and get the nurse!” Mum pleads. “Do you remember anything? How are you feeling?”
Blinking, I try to find the information they want as they stroke my hair, and my dad looks at me worriedly. “I… I think.” My head hurts, as do my leg and waist. “I was hit.” I swallow emotionally as my brain finally begins to take stock of my injuries. Everything comes rushing back. The car lights. Deeks’s panicked roar. The pain.
I begin to well up, emotion prickling my eyes, and my mum leans in and gives me a soft squeeze. “It's okay, love—the nurse is on their way.”
Where’s Cain?
My family crowd me as the nurse checks my vitals behind the curtain. I frown at my mum, but she is looking at my dad with concerned eyes. “All vitals are good,” the male attendant states as he scribbles on his notes, “with your previous concussion, we were a little concerned, but you’re doing okay.”
“Seriously, Lauren, looking before you cross the road is simple road safety.” James sighs, dropping back into his seat like a petulant child and not the grown man he appears to be.
Ignoring him, I peer around my parents, but it’s just us in here. “My leg,” I hiss, trying to shift.
“Yes, unfortunately, the impact resulted in a break. We’ve pinned your femur. You’ll need some physio,” the nurse states. “Rehabilitation is tough, but you seem like a tough cookie.” He smiles encouragingly.
“Oh.” I lift the sheet to find my leg secured in a cast. “How am I supposed to work?” I worry.
“Try not to panic. Let's just get you back home first.” Dad gives my shoulder a light squeeze. Back home to theirs?
“Where’s Cain?” I demand. Why isn’t he here? My mum worries at her bottom lip. “Why are you looking at me like that?” When my dad sucks in a breath, I flick an anxious look between my parents. “Dad?” I press.
“He’s… Your accident has been a shock to us all—” He pats my hand, and my mother offers a reassuring smile. Where is he? My stomach swoops, and I grapple with the possibility of Cain walking away from me.
“But he’s coming later, right? Someone call him,” I croak.
My mum opens her mouth to answer, but my father cups her wrist affectionately. “Jan, let me. Lauren, he’s struggling with this.” My father’s low, coarse tone sends panic through me.
“No, call him.” I grip my mum's hand tightly. “Mum, please?”
The nurse yanks the curtain apart as he leaves, and my eyes slam to Cain’s as he sits just outside the cubicle, talking quietly on the phone. I sag in relief and give him a watery smile, but resigned grief stares back at me, and I begin to shake my head. He looks gaunt—traumatised by what's happened. “No.” I choke when he stands. He slides his hands into his pockets and walks to me, face set in a stony frown. Eyes full of pain. “Don’t you dare!” I whisper hotly. He’s going to end this.
“Don’t make it any harder for me, pretty girl.” His gaze sweeps the machines and then me.