Chapter Twenty Two: Accident

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POV Change

I've gotta see her.

Blurred streetlights.

I need to feel her skin against mine.

Falling rain.

Feel her soft lips.

Too fast.

Her eyes lighting up when she sees me.

Around a curve.

I need her.

Squealing tires. Broken glass. Blood.



Your POV

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

What? You look at the clock. It's one in the morning. You stumble out of bed and make your way into the living room. You open the door.

"Ma'am," a police officer tips his hat. "Are you Ms. Billie Finch?"

What's wrong?

"Yes. Can I help you officer?"

"Ma'am, I've been sent here to bring you to the hospital."

No. No. Please, no. 

"A Mr. Hiddleston was in a car accident. We contacted his mother, and she asked us to inform you."

"No," you breathe. You start to sink to the floor, but the officer grabs you and steers you to a chair. "Is he okay?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. I was asked to bring you to the hospital."

You nod and grab for your purse.


"I'm here to see Tom Hiddleston. My name's Billie Finch."

The receptionist looks at you.

"Can I see some identification please?"

You nod and pull out your license. She looks at it for a moment before nodding.

"Take a seat. The doctors are working on him right now. We'll let you know when you can see him."

You sit down on a hard plastic chair and try to sit still. You're in the empty waiting room for nearly an hour.

"Billie Finch?"

You look up to see a doctor standing by the reception desk. You stand up and walk to him. Your legs feel numb. The doctor shakes your hand and leads you toward the back of the hospital.

"Ms. Finch," he says, "we worked on him in the emergency room, and we ran some tests, and it looks like he'll be just fine."

You sigh in relief and wipe away a tear rolling down your cheek.

"We gave him some sedatives, so he'll be asleep for awhile. He hit his head, but it shouldn't cause any problems. We're running a few more tests to make sure everything is okay. He's got a lot of scrapes and bruises. There's quite a large cut on his arm. He looks pretty bad, but I promise you that it looks worse than it is."

You nod. The doctor opens a door to a hospital room. He tells you that you can stay as long as you'd like. You thank him and close the door. You turn around and see Tom lying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines. You hear a sob, and you realize it came from you.

"Tom," you whisper. "Oh, Tom, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in London. You should be safe at home, not lying in a hospital bed."

You move toward the bed. There's a large cut on Tom's cheek that makes you gasp when you see it. You pull a chair over to the bed and sit down, taking Tom's limp hand in yours. The room is dark apart from the light coming in from the city outside. You rest your head on the bed, still holding Tom's hand. You close your eyes and drift off.

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