Page 135 of Lucas

“It’s okay, Lucas. You’re alright,” anothervoice soothes.

I don’t feel alright. My body won’t respond. I can’t speak. Everything hurts.

“The light,” I rasp, the words coming out more like a growl.

“What’s he trying to say? He needs water!”

Someone brings a cup to my lips, and I take a sip, finding the cool liquid to be a balm for my desert-dry throat.

“The light,” I say again, coughing and trying to enunciate more clearly this time.

“I think the light is bothering him. Can we dim it?”

Yes. Exactly. Turn off the fucking light.

The brightness recedes, and I open my eyes a bit more, blinking to clear the haze.

“Cora?” I recognize my sister’s fair hair and her blurry features slowly coming into focus.

“You scared us, Lucas,” she says, her voice thick with unshed tears.

“Where am I?” I groan as I try to turn my head, discovering my neck aches like hell.

Dad. Liam. Logan. Cora. They’re all here. Where’s Ava?

“The hospital,” Dad says, his face lined with worry.

I close my eyes, unable to deal with him right now.

“Ava?” I whisper, my heart in my throat.

“I’m here.” She steps forward into my field of vision, beautiful even though her face is pinched with concern and exhaustion.

I sigh in relief as she takes my hand, curling my fingers around hers. “You’re here.” Nothing else matters if she’s here. She hasn’t left me.

Yet. She hasn’t left you yet.

“Always,” she says, bringing my hand to her lips.

“Am I dying?”

“Not yet, bro.” Liam grins.

“So, I’m going to die?” I ask, only half joking.

“Not that either.”

“Must have gotten pretty banged up if you’re all here.” I wince as I shift, pain lancing through my ribs. “Fuck. Why are you all here? What happened to me?”

“Looks like you got off easy.” Logan appears, hovering over me. “Lots of bruising, dislocated shoulder, a few cracked ribs. Your helmet saved your life.”

“We found you in a ditch by the road. You crashed your bike,” Cora adds, her hand tightening on mine.

“I didn’t crash,” I protest, the memory surfacing through the fog in my brain.

“Yes, you did. You don’t remember?” She leans closer, studying my face. “We found you with your bike.”

“I remember. I remember everything, and I didn’t crash. Someone hit me.”