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Surrendered(78)

By:LP Lovell


“I’ll go.” I say. He needs time with her. There’s nothing I can do right now.

“What happened?” He asks as I pass him on my way to the door. I turn to face him. His eyes are fixed on Lilly.

“I…I took my eye off Cassie for one second, and she got in the car. It was one second. ” George puts his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay Theo. It wasn’t your fault. I distracted you.” He sniffs.

I shake my head. “No, it’s my fault. She would never have been around that crazy bitch if it wasn’t for me.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Harry croaks.

“Harry.” George hisses. “That is not fair. No-one can make that girl do anything she doesn’t want to do. She wanted to be in that car. She was trying to stop Cassie from doing something stupid. That’s Lilly, she does crazy shit. You of all people know that.” Harry says nothing.

“It’s fine George. I’ll go and come back tomorrow.” I tell him. I don’t go though. I stay in the waiting room until Harry and George leave. Then I sneak back in and take up residence in the chair next to her bed. If they want me to leave, they will have to drag me out of here by force.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LILLY



My head hurts, a lot. All I can hear is a steady rhythmical beep. I try to open my eyes, but my head feels so heavy. I can feel myself being pulled back under into sleep.

There are voices. Molly and George I think. They’re talking quietly, and I’m straining to hear them.

“If she doesn’t wake up soon, he’s going to snap.” George says.

“I know.” Molly agrees. “Hugo said he’s never seen him like this.” Theo, they must be talking about Theo. As my senses sharpen slightly, so does the pain, my head is killing me, and my chest hurts. Oh fuck.

I hear someone enter the room. “Her heart rate is spiking. I’m going to give her more pain meds.”

“I thought you were lowering the dosage on her meds.” George says.

“Yes, but her vitals are spiking.” Within a few minutes the pain disappears and my mind once again becomes thick and foggy. I succumb to the blackness. This is the pattern of my life for the next few days. There are spots of consciousness, voices, and hands touching mine, then nothing again, only darkness.



I open my eyes. The room is dimly lit by a lamp in the corner. My head is pounding, and I’m struggling to focus, or recall anything. This looks like a hospital room. There’s something on my face and IV’s in my arms. I try to move, but my chest and sides hurt like a bitch. I glance down at myself trying to work out what the hell happened to me, as I do, I catch sight of someone sleeping in the chair next to me. Theo. He looks rumpled and unkempt. His stubble is verging on being a full beard, and his hair looks like he’s been dragging his hands through it continuously. He stirs and his eyes flick open. He freezes when he sees me watching him.

“Lilly.” He breathes.

He stands abruptly and takes my hand. His other hand brushes my cheek. “You’re awake.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “You scared the shit out of me.” His eyes well with tears. What the hell? How long have I been here?

“Sorry.” I say, or at least I try to. My voice comes out as a raspy whisper. My throat hurts like a bitch. In fact, everything hurts like a bitch. He passes me a glass of water with a straw. I take a small sip, which soothes my parched throat. “What happened?” I whisper.

“You were in a car crash.” His eyes search my face. He grips my hand and holds on tight. “You’ve been in a coma for over a week.”

“Huh.”

“That’s it. Huh.” He smirks at me, and the worry slowly leaves his eyes.

“You look like shit.” I tell him. “Did you not wash for a week or something? That’s gross.”

He snorts. “Thanks, not even awake five minutes and slinging insults.” He never lets go of my hand.

I wince when I try to sit up. “Oh fuck.” I clasp my side and have to pant. Jesus, that hurts.

His eyes go wide with panic. “I’ll get the nurse.” He hops up and leaves the room.

A few minutes later, a rather large nurse strolls in and starts checking the machines. “I’m Brenda, and I’m your nurse tonight, Miss Parker. How do you feel?” She asks in a no nonsense tone.

“Like I was in a car crash.” I say through gritted teeth.

She gives me a stern look over her glasses. “Between one and ten how would you describe your pain?” What the hell kind of measure is that. With one being like a pin prick, and ten being immersed in lava?