The gurney rolls into the back of the ambulance and I hold back my screams as Carver gets right in with me, crouching beside the gurney so his face is right by mine as the paramedics do their thing. Something presses down over my face as the back doors of the ambulance slam shut, closing me off to King, Cruz, and Grayson, but something tells me that they won’t be far behind.
The ambulance takes off as Carver squeezes my hand, keeping my attention on him. “You’re going to make it,” he tells me. “You have to fucking make it.”
I shake my head, letting the tears fall free. “I’m dying. I can’t … I’m not going to make it.”
“Don’t you fucking say that,” he roars at me, squeezing my hand so much tighter, so tight that I feel my knuckles pressing together. “You’re going to fucking fight because if you don’t, if you fucking die, it’s going to destroy Cruz. It’s going to kill King, and it’ll fucking wreck Gray, and I won’t let you do that to them. Fight for them.”
A tear falls and lands right on our hands between our faces. “And what about you?”
“If you fucking die on me, Winter,” he says, his gaze boring into mine. “I’ll never forgive you— because we’re not done yet. There’s still so much more that we need to do together, so much that we haven’t even had the chance to start yet, and fuck it, I want it all. You’re stronger than this. You can fight it.”
“The four of you keep putting me on a pedestal, but I’m not that strong.”
“You are, Winter. You’re a fucking Ravenwood, and I know this is all on me, and I’ll fucking live with it for the rest of my life, but you’re not dying today. You have too much left to do.”
Pressure comes down on my abdomen and I clench my jaw as the pain continues to rock through me. “I’m scared,” I tell him, hating the words as they come out of my mouth. I’ve always prided myself on being strong, always strived to push myself harder, and I’ve done everything I possibly can to hide my weaknesses, but Carver sees through it. He’s been able to see my vulnerabilities since the day I first met him. He knows me better than I know myself. He’s the reason I was able to survive in the beginning.
“I know,” he murmurs as the paramedics step in beside him and take my arm to start an IV. Hopefully, they'll get some pain relief pulsing through my system. “But you’re not as fucking terrified as I am. If I lose you …”
Carver lets the words fall away, but I don’t need him to finish them. I know exactly what he’s saying because I feel it too. The idea of one of the guys being taken away from me is the most painful thought that I’ve ever had, and right now, all four of them are fearing that exact thing.
Carver is right. I have to fight this. I have to make it because if I don’t, the boys will be shattered and I refuse to do that to them.
I have too much to do in this world. Too many battles to win.
My eyelids grow heavy and I wonder what the fuck the paramedic put into my IV, but I don’t get a chance to ask as my world quickly begins to fall away. “Sleep, Winter,” Carver tells me, keeping my hand tucked safely between his. “Just make sure you come back to me. This isn’t the end, not yet.”
CHAPTER 2
The soft, rhythmic beep of my heart monitor sounds through my room as consciousness comes back to me, telling me that somehow, I made it. I defied all the odds, and for some reason unknown to me, I’ve been granted the chance to live another day.
My eyes peel open and the fogginess inside my head quickly sets in, bringing on a migraine that makes me desperate for the darkness again.
It was peaceful in the darkness. It was quiet and I didn’t have to think about anything. Nothing existed but me. There were no dickheads trying to kill me, no evil mothers trying to take me out, no bastards trying to drown me in my pool or shoot me in the woods.
I was safe in the darkness.
“Fucking hell, babe,” I hear Cruz sighing from beside me just as his warm hand curls around mine. The relief is evident in his tone and completely overwhelms me with the best kind of warmth. “You scared me for a while. Are you good? What do you need? Should I call your doctor?”
“Jesus,” King grunts from my other side, his tone flat, forceful, and exhausted. “Give her a fucking chance to wake up. She just got out of surgery.”
“She’s been out for over eight hours,” Cruz snaps back. “She’s just fucking with us now. I’m done waiting. I need to check that she’s alright.”
“She’ll wake when she’s fucking ready to wake,” Grayson’s booming voice calls through the room, coming from the end of the bed.
My face scrunches as the sound of their conversation thunders against my aching head, feeding my migraine and reminding me just how human I really am. I'm nothing special. I'm not Superwoman. Though these guys would disagree. For some insane reason that I haven’t figured out yet, they think the sun shines out of my ass, and for that, I’m thankful. They make me feel things I never thought I’d be capable of feeling, and it’s so much more than I ever dreamed for myself.
“Would you all shut up? My head is fucking killing me.”
“Shit,” Cruz rushes out with a small gasp, practically launching off the seat beside my bed to get even closer, looking right at my face to see my eyes open just a slither. “You’re awake?”
“Barely,” I grumble, my lips stretching into a grimace as every word that comes out makes me feel as though I’m slamming my head against a brick wall. I feel King move in closer on my left, probably just as desperate as Cruz to make sure that I’m truly alright.
Cruz moves right into my line of sight, blocking out a disheveled Grayson at the end of the bed. His beautiful green eyes shine with a million truths, telling me everything that he’s refusing to say out loud, and damn it, it fucking kills me. He’s been through hell and back over the past few hours, I’m sure they all have, but Cruz … Cruz is the one who feels it deep in his gut. The worst would have sat on his mind until the moment I woke, and those horrendous thoughts will stay with him for years to come.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, making my heart break as he focuses every bit of his attention on me, showing me just how much he truly cares. “Do you need a drink? Water? The nurse? Whatever you need, babe, I’m here.”
Cruz watches me for a second, his hand gently squeezing mine, but how am I supposed to tell him that what I really need is silence? I wouldn’t dare. He can ask me every question under the sun, and I’ll accept all of them with a worsening migraine. At least the pain is a constant reminder that my heart is still beating—unless this is some twisted version of hell.
“I just …” I try to swallow over the dryness of my throat. “Water. Nurse.”
“You got it, babe,” Cruz says reaching around and pressing the call button on a little remote attached to the side of my bed.
King grabs a bottle of water and lifts it to my lips. I take a quick sip, and as he pulls it away, he focuses on my eyes. “Better? Do you need more?”
My gaze shifts over King’s handsome face, taking in his haunted eyes and renewed hope. King has been through the worst kind of hell. It was only yesterday that he lost his father, and now he has to deal with this. I wish so desperately that I could take that pain away.