Page 98 of Scarred Crown

“Nick was in a bike accident.” Her brown eyes are tinged with sympathy. “A bad one. They didn’t want to wake you until they knew more.”

All the blood rushes from my body, and I collapse into the couch beside Posey. “A bike accident?” My heart kicks, and there’s a queasiness in my stomach that makes me glance around for a garbage can. I think I might be sick.

“On our road,” she murmurs. “Security found him in a ditch by tracking his phone.”

“Oh, my God,” I breathe out. She might not know the answer to my next question, but I have to ask it. “Is he alive?”

“Yeah,” Posey says, and she squeezes my hand. “Apparently, he’s really banged up. I mean, obviously. He was unconscious in a ditch.”

“On our road.” Was he coming to see me? He never texted me back about exchanging gifts. “I have to get to the hospital.”

“Mom said she’d call us when he could have visitors.” Posey follows me from the room as I hustle to my bedroom to get dressed.

“It’s Nick.” I shouldn’t have to explain to her of all people why I need to get to him. She’s the only person who even has an inkling of what’s going on between us.

Posey stands in my doorway as I throw on sweats and sweep my hair into a ponytail. Hastily, I brush my teeth in the en suite. She trails me to the front door and hesitates for a second, still in her pajamas.

“Are you sure you should go without Mom calling? It’s Christmas Day.”

The reminder sends me back to my room to grab Nick’s gift. I stare at the envelope in my hand. I purchased it months ago and wrote the inscription as soon as it arrived. Back then, I still had hope things would go back to normal between Nick and me with enough effort on both our parts. Except, only one of us has been trying.

If I don’t give it to him, it feels like I’m giving up on us, and I’m not ready to do that yet. Once he’s done with Vicky, we can salvage something or rebuild it, maybe. So, I fold the envelope and tuck it into the pocket of my coat. Might not look amazing when he gets it, but the sentiment is the same.

I pass Posey in the front entrance without saying a word. The air outside is crisp, and there’s a thin sheen of ice on the road from the night before. I imagine Nick, driving too fast down familiar roads, and ditching his bike. Maybe my mother was right months ago that his solo trips around the island were an accident waiting to happen.

###

My mother is the first person I see when I get to the hospital. She’s pacing in the waiting room, and my father is sitting to the side reading a magazine. When she catches sight of me, she stops and glances in my father’s direction.

“Julia,” she says. “What are you doing here?”

“Posey said Nick’s hurt. Why didn’t anyone wake me up?” There’s a touch of anger in my voice.

She releases a deep sigh and draws me into one of the family conference rooms off to the side. As soon as the door is closed tight, she motions for me to have a seat on one of the faux leather chairs.

“I’m not sitting down,” I say. “I want to see Nick.”

“He’s sleeping. His parents and brothers are with him.”

“Why didn’t anyone wake me up? It’s Nick.” I clench my hands at my sides. “Is he going to be all right?”

“Bad concussion. Broken ribs. Broken collarbone. He’s lucky his phone was switched on and security, which he should have had with him in the first place, were able to track him.” She smooths strands of her hair behind her ear.

I ease into the chair across from her and put my head in my hands. “Was he coming to see me?”

My mother doesn’t answer, and when I glance up, her face is pinched. Whatever is going on, she doesn’t want to tell me.

“Was Vicky with him?”

“No.” My mother shakes her head. “He was alone.”

“But he wasn’t coming to see me?” That’s the only logical explanation for the look on her face. There has to be more though.

“No, he wasn’t. He said he was just out for a ride.”

I nod. Okay, well, I don’t know what to make of that, but at least he’s okay.

“Can I see him?” I ask.