Page 51 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

With one leg still up, she crashed sideways into the ground.

Esra screamed.

I sprang into action, grabbed her foot and pulled it from the stirrup before the horse could drag her off.

Esra was wheezing. On the ground. She was on the ground, and she was clutching her shoulder and my horse had just thrown her and… dread squeezed my lungs as I dropped to my knees.

“Don’t move,” I said and cradled her face. Head and neck injuries were the most dangerous when falling like that, followed by spinal injuries. Even worse for someone like her. She could be seriously hurt.

Guilt joined the panic in my chest. I hadn’t controlled my feelings or the horse I’d been riding for years. I hadn’t lifted her off the saddle like I was supposed to, like I’d done countless times before.

“Noah.” Esra grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut as silent tears started running down her cheeks. “Help me up. Now.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Get me inside. I’m not a goddamn spectacle.”

I felt around the sides and back of her head, but there was no blood. And judging by the way she was jerking her chin at me, her neck was likely fine too. She had her left arm slung around the right one though .

“Okay,” I breathed and pushed my arms in under her. She buried her face against my chest as I carried her, and I tried hard not to interpret anything from that. Inside, I sat her down on the table with her back propped up against the wall.

“Shit. Austin?” I fumbled for my microphone.

“I saw. Is she okay?”

“We’re gonna need an ambulance,” I said.

“I can finish the show. Give me ten minutes,” Esra sniffed.

“You fell off the horse. You’re not going anywhere but the hospital.”

“I fell from like halfway down the horse.” She shot me a withering glare.

“What on earth is going on?” Renee’s voice came online. “Esra, are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed through a straining chest.

“No, she’s not. She’s crying. She’s white as a ghost. And…” Something was wrong with her arm, and if I’d understood her correctly about her chronic illness, her joints were fragile as fuck.

“Don’t,” Esra warned.

We locked eyes.

Her diagnosis wasn’t mine to share, but I wasn’t going to sit idly by while she pretended it didn’t exist, just so she could feel more normal. Not when she was clutching her arm like it might fall off. “She needs a doctor. I think her shoulder’s dislocated. Get us an ambulance.”

I knew she’d hold this against me later as another instance of me trying to manage her life. If she couldn’t see that her own stubbornness was working against her, maybe some doctor would agree with me that her injury required immediate medical attention.

Esra tore her gaze away, another wave of tears spilling down her face, and something told me those had nothing to do with her arm.

E SRA

Noah tried to climb into the back of the ambulance with me, but I had the EMT kick him out. Even if I ignored the fight and everything that had come before I fell off the damn horse, I’d seen the shift in his eyes when he picked me up.

It was the moment I’d expected the day he’d removed my shoes in his kitchen.

He thought I was fragile now.

I knew my shoulder was dislocated, even without an X-ray. It had happened before, and it would happen again. Not that anyone believed me, because god forbid a young woman with a medical file thicker than most med-school textbooks actually knew what was wrong with her own body.

Waiting for the X-ray to confirm what I already knew– nothing broken– took longer than the rest of the treatment at the hospital.

A nice doctor jabbed me with an anesthetic, popped the shoulder back where it belonged and outfitted me with a sling for my arm.

They also tried to prescribe me pain meds, but I told them that over-the-counter would work just fine for me .

“There’s a young gentleman waiting outside for you,” the middle-aged nurse said as she helped me back into my dress.

“Is he wearing a costume, too?” I asked.

“He is.”

“Tall, dark, broody, kinda looks like he could rob a bank?”

“Honey, we might live a few towns over, but we all know Bravetown like the back of our hand. That’s the young man who plays Ace Ryder.”

“I don’t want to see him,” I said way too quickly.

“He’s been here for hours, waiting for you.”

And under different circumstances, he probably would have gotten to me if I’d just been in the ER.

But despite canceling my credit cards and practically kicking me out of the house, my parents didn’t have the heart to boot me off their insurance.

Their very expensive insurance that paid for all the little extras, like private rooms.

“Could you give me a minute to myself?” I asked the nurse and offered her a polite smile.

“Of course, honey.”

As soon as she was out of the room, I released a long, stuttering breath.

God, I hated hospitals.

I stared at the door, picturing Noah’s long limbs folded into one of those tiny hallway benches while he waited for me. Because he couldn’t help himself. He’d feel responsible for the fall, and he’d feel responsible for me.

I closed my eyes, steeling myself for the conversation I was about to have, then pulled out my phone. She picked up on the second ring .

“Mom, I’m hurt.”

“Canim benim,” she sighed, “which hospital are you in? Do you need surgery? I’m getting Dr. Garibaldi on the phone.”

“Mom, please.” I pressed my lips together for a second, registering all the questions she didn’t ask.

Hurt, how? What happened? How do you feel?

A week ago, I would have clashed with her over it, but I was tired.

I was just so tired of constantly having to fight for air.

At least I had two decades’ worth of experience in handling her specific brand of stifling.

I took one last deep breath of freedom.

“Can I come back home?”