Page 200 of Split You Open

My mind is foggy but I try to dig through the haze to get some answers. Vaguely, I remember trouble. The sound of glass breaking, bullets flying… The thundering of footsteps going up stairs.

The fear of seeing Dad surrounded…

A blurry vision of Ledger bending over me, looking more frightened than I’ve ever seen him before. I remember being unable to move, speak, or cling to him as the world sank away…

I flinch as that particular memory seems to unlock the rest of them.

Being captured by Dixie.

Trapped in a car filled with poisonous fumes.

Managing to make it out only to suffocate there on the garage floor.

My eyes fly open in alarm. The room spins even faster this time and my stomach lurches. Slamming my eyelids shut, I dig my fingers into the soft fabric beneath me in an attempt to stop the spinning. A groan slips past my lips without my control.

Suddenly, it’s like I’m back in that garage. My lungs won’t fill with air as panic spikes through me. I try but my throat squeezes closed. As I gasp, I start to flounder. At first, just to figure out exactly where the pain is coming from. When that doesn’t help me, I try to sit up but the move hurts so bad that the agony threatens to pull me back under. Fighting through it, I try to brace myself with my elbows. My teeth gnash together. Blinking rapidly, I blink to clear my vision.

Where am I?

What happened?

What’s going on?

Where’s Ledger and the others?

Is Dad okay? Whatever happened to him?

“Hey, cut it out,” a rough voice growls. “Blair, calm down. Breathe!”

My eyes fly open.

A blurry figure appears over top of me. Hands grab my shoulders and gently give me a little shake. The motion, though careful, causes me to gasp in pain. It radiates from my shoulder specifically. Blinking again, I carefully open my eyes to find Ledger leaning over me, his brows pinched with concern.

If Ledger’s here, I’m safe.

Forcing myself to relax, I sink back onto a bed. My bed. The room comes into focus behind Ledger, and I realize I’m back at the cabin.

And we’re not alone.

Dad is leaning against the wall beside the door with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me. I’m hit with a wave of relief that he’s alive and okay, then another wave—this one made of shame and regret. I just acted out, something he’s taught me not to do.

Shit.

Swallowing down the embarrassment, I look between both men.

“What happened?” I ask. Or try to, at least.

My throat is so dry and raspy that the words are barely audible.

“I’ll get you some water,” Dad offers, pushing away from the wall before disappearing.

God, I want this mattress to just eat me up. He must be so disappointed in me. Not only did I just make a scene, but I was captured. I’m better than that. I should’ve fought harder. Should’ve jumped out the window with him. Or I⁠—

“Be careful, Blair. You’ve got a handful of stitches just under your collarbone,” Ledger growls out as he sits beside me on the edge of my bed. “A few in your leg and hip too. You can’t move around too much or you’ll pull them all out. You’re going to be hurting for a while, so just take it easy.”

I swallow, wincing at how dry my throat is, but then nod.

“What. Happened?” I wheeze out.