I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

67 (NEW)

SAM

I stare up at a ceiling...half lost. My head bumping, my leg aches up a hell so pure. Did that son of a bitch actually hit me?!! The red-haired fuck!!

Beeping from a monitor helps me realize where I am. A hospital. Fuck. I was so sure he wouldn't take the hit. Reba must have seen...Phil must have seen. How else did I get here?

Shit...I have no choice but to tell them the truth now. Chris and I need to inform them; the stakes are high now.

Oh fuck...Chris.

I try to lift my upper body, only to experience a statue mobility of my limbs, so I stay put. I raise my head instead. The surroundings move faster than normal: becoming a whirlpool of dizziness. I become nauseous. My heart rate on the monitor speeds up. Motion from a sofa catches my attention; someone sits there. My eyes sting from the light, I blink rapidly, adjusting my vision: which takes a few seconds to clear.

Reba gets to her feet. "You alright?" Her sweet, brown eyes are fearful. "Just take big breaths." I take her advice and breathe through my mouth in big gulps. This action gradually lowers the rapid heart rate tearing up the machine. I stare down at my bandaged leg, creeped out by the white cast, and how it's propped high above the bed. "The doctor says it'll heal in about eight weeks, and even quicker if physical therapy is started."

"Where's Chris?" My baby.

"He's getting some rest in a room; his dad's with him. He's shook up. We all are." She walks to my bedside and sits on the very edge of the mattress, trying not to take up too much space. "Who was in the car?"

"Did you see where it went?" I avoid the question, not sure what to say just yet. Was the guy a hitman or a tracer? He sure acted more like the latter...but then again he didn't.

"There was so much going on. I didn't pay any mind to the car...you were bleeding on the street with a broken bone sticking out of your leg. Scared me half to death."

I lay my head down on a soft pillow. "I'm sorry."

I feel Reba's gaze on me. "Sam...who was in that car?"

One single knock on the door causes us to draw our sight to it. The doorknob twists and the door pushes up. A male nurse with curly pink hair. "Hello, I'm here to check up." He enters the room and presses a button on a machine. This stops the crazy blinking on the screen. "Your heart rate calmed down, that's good. There's nothing serious to worry about; patients get stressed all the time. How are you feeling right now?"

"Dizzy, there's body throbs as well," I respond. "No pain."

"That's good; I'll let your doctor know that the pain meds are working. She'll be with you soon concerning the other issues." The guy smiles nicely before leaving.

Reba places a hand on my arm. "We'll talk in the morning; when you feel better."

In my dream, the green car cracks my leg in two, on a constant loop. The pain, the hot, needling, stabbing pain, is drawn out. As if my mind is warning me that I'm human. That I could get hurt again so easily.

I fall to the ground, but this time I stay awake, watching blood pour excessively from my leg, shooting upwards like a goddamn cartoon-the broken bone. The black pavement shimmers in red. No one is around, no Reba or Phil, no car...it's gone now.

An eerie quiet buzzes my ears as I watch the blood spill from my leg like a river. Everything around, the houses, the sky, the black street, turns red.