Indestructible

“What’s in here?” I asked, turning around when we stopped at the bottom of the stairs. They looked steeper than before. Cautiously, I started up backwards, placing my feet carefully. The higher we climbed, the more my grasp slipped from the corners, but I kept a firm grip.

“Logan’s sex swing.”

My steps halted and jaw dropped in shock, and before I could stop it, the box was slipping out of my hands.

“AHHH!” was all I heard as Natasha bore the weight of the box, attempted to keep her balance, then flew backward. She landed with a hard thud on the concrete and I raced down, trying to stop the box that was tumbling after her.

I was too late, grabbing hold of it just as it landed hard on her stomach. Panic gripped me as she lay there sobbing. I pushed the box over, and its contents spilled out.

To my relief and mortification, they weren’t a sex swing at all, but a collection of hardcover books.

Chapter Fourteen

Tension

There are some things in life we can’t take back, with no possible way to rewind time and do them differently. Instead, we’re forced to endure the crushing blow of regret while anxiously awaiting a chance to apologize in some vain attempt to make things right.

For me, the ripples of remorse I stomached for letting that box slip from my hands grew more unbearable the longer I waited for Natasha to speak to me. I’d ridden in the ambulance with her—not that I’d asked to, but the paramedic suggested it, and with no possible reason not to I’d climbed in.

It was over an hour later that I was sitting in a small cubicle next to an empty spot where her bed had been before they’d rolled her off to have X-rays taken.

The doctor believed something might be broken or sprained, which wasn’t surprising considering she couldn’t sit up. And as worried as I was for her, it ate at me that even though I’d repeatedly tried to explain how the box had slipped purely on accident, she was too doped up by the time we were alone in the ER to even acknowledge it. Or perhaps she was making me sweat a little by withholding the ‘It’s okay, accidents happen’ I desperately needed to hear. My guilt was unfathomable; nothing could make me feel worse.

“Holy shit!”

Jax strode through the curtain, a wide grin covering his face. “Down the stairs, huh? Gotta say, Cassandra—didn’t think you had it in you.”

I sat up in my chair, my eyes narrowed in his direction. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t seem to notice as he glanced around the room, amused. “Word travels fast in this town of yours.”

My heart nosedived into the furthest depths of the shame pool. “Does…does Oliver know?” My words were a broken whisper.

Jax cackled, his head actually thrown back at my despair. “Doubtful, but seriously, when you push someone down a flight of stairs—especially someone that deserves it—you don’t hang your head. Fucking own it! Now where is she? I’m gonna need to capture this moment.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved his cell.

“Out!” I stood, pointing to the curtain he’d entered through.

“Come on, just one pic when she gets back.”

Smug as ever. “Now!” My voice dripped with unspoken threats.

“Damn, you’re cute when you’re pissed.” He tucked his phone away and held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll go, but I can stick around a little if you want—in the waiting room, of course. I heard you hopped a ride over with her, so I guess you’ll need a ride to go get my car you left there.”

My scowl lessened, but only by a fragment. “Fine, but stay away from Natasha.”

“Sure, of course.” He began to turn then stopped and glanced back, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “But at least tell me her ass took a few licks from the pavement?”

“She’s a woman, you pig!” I spat.

“If you say so.”

“Get. Out!”

“Shit, all right, let’s go then.”

“What? I can’t leave her here.” My expression twisted up.

“Why not? You think she’d sit here waiting for you?”

“I don’t care what she’d do. I won’t leave her here alone unless she asks.”

“Your call. I’ll be around. Just text me when you’re ready.” Looking bored already, he turned and walked out.

I slouched back in the chair, my fingers massaging my temples as I waited for Natasha to return. I checked my phone, aware Logan would be looking for me and probably blowing up my inbox, but there was only one text.

At home waiting for u sweetheart

I didn’t know what to say—at least, not over text—so I slipped the phone back in my jacket pocket just as the nurse rolled Natasha’s bed back into the room. Natasha lay there half asleep, facing the other way.

I stood, concern my only emotion.

“Is everything okay?” I asked the nurse, choking on my words.

“The doctor will look over the X-rays soon and then come talk to her.”

“Thank you,” I said, then watched her begin to leave as quickly as she’d come. Feeling suddenly uneasy, I asked before she disappeared, “Did she have an in-case-of-emergency contact, or someone else that you guys notified?”

The nurse nodded. “Yes, he should be here.”

I shook my head, knowing in my gut exactly whom she’d have them call. I stopped the nurse’s steps once more.

“What’s his name?”

“Sorry, I’m not sure. I was just told someone was coming in for her.”

The nurse left, and then it was just Natasha and me in the tiny room. I paced the room, wondering if Logan and Oliver would materialize behind the curtain at any moment.

Logan, I could handle. Not that I was thrilled about explaining it to him, but Oliver…just the thought of the worry he’d hold in his bright blue eyes was too much to bear.

I never spoke a word, feeling it best to leave Natasha to sleep. After a few more strides, I sat back down and waited. I rested my head on the wall behind me and closed my eyes.

The doctor’s voice pierced the air as he walked in. “All right, well, I looked over the images.”

Natasha peeked up. “And?” she shot back, unable to control her irritation.

“Nothing’s broken, but there is quite a bruise on your tailbone. We’ll give you a prescription to alleviate some of the pain, as well as a doughnut cushion to relieve some pressure when you sit. You should be feeling good as new within about a week.”

Exasperated, Natasha let her head fall back on the pillow. “That’s it? Drugs and an ass pillow?”

“That’s all we can do.” Chart in hand, he wrote something down, then looked up and smiled. “Follow up with your doctor, and if you need anything else, we’re here. The nurse will be in shortly with some instructions, and then you can go home.”

“Right. Thanks,” Natasha said with a sigh.

After he left, the silence returned. Internally, I debated different ways to speak to her naturally. But when nothing sounded good enough in my head, I finally just blurted it out.

“I’m so sorry, Natasha. Truly, it wasn’t on purpose. The box was so heavy, and it slipped. You have to know I’d never do that intentionally.”