Page 30 of Ugly Duckling (Content Advisory #6)

I looked over at the opposing school board member and said, “I’ll do everything I can to make this as affordable as I can for y’all.”

He nodded. “I don’t think we need to vote anymore. When can you start?”

There wasn’t a smile on my face as I headed out the door ten minutes later with my laptop tucked underneath my arm.

I rubbed at the aching spot on my chest and closed my eyes as I moved, wondering if the pain would ever ease.

Or would it always feel like this?

My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket and answered it. “Gunner Penn.”

“Um, Mr. Penn?” a worried sounding voice asked.

I immediately stopped walking. “This is he.”

“This is a nurse at Dallas Memorial. I’m calling because we have a patient by the name of Sutton Sway here…”

It took me eight hours to get home.

It should’ve taken me nine.

I’d driven like a bat out of hell and luck was on my side, because I hadn’t seen a single police officer the entire way.

There was a different ache in my heart as I all but ran into the hospital.

A security guard buzzed me in and told me what room.

I was skidding around a corner when I heard it.

“…sure she’s okay?”

“She’s more than okay,” the doctor said right when I rounded the corner to a curtained-off room in the middle of the emergency room.

“Good.” An older woman looked so relieved at the news. “Oh god.”

My gaze went from the man to the woman before I said, “Mr. and Mrs. Sway?”

Both of Sutton’s parents turned toward the opening in the curtain, but it was Mrs. Sway who was bustling toward me with her arms outstretched long moments later.

“Oh, Gunner,” she said quietly. “I’m so glad that you’re here.”

I hugged her back, my gaze going to the empty bed before I said, “Where is she? Is she okay?”

“I knew that you should’ve called him.” Mr. Sway held out his hand for me to shake when Mrs. Sway finally let me pull away. “She’s fine. Pissed as all get out because she sprained her ankle and can’t train for a few weeks. Even angrier that someone took out her brand-new car.”

I could imagine.

“And she’s…”

“Right here,” a rough sounding voice came from behind me.

I turned to find her smiling sadly at me as she hobbled toward me in a pair of ripped leggings and one of my sweatshirts.

I moved toward her and gently lifted her up off the ground, holding her close for long moments while I forced myself to calm down.

I’d driven long hours back to Dallas while in a state of panic.

I’d called a few of the guys, and they’d stopped what they were doing to head down to check on her.

They’d all said that she was fine, but hearing she was fine, and seeing that she was fine, were two completely different things.

“What happened?” I rasped.

She turned her face so that it was buried in my neck, and I held on just a little bit tighter.

“A car hopped the curb and headed straight for me,” she explained into my neck. “I jumped to hide behind a concrete barrier that blocked a fire hydrant, but my ankle didn’t get the memo. It twisted into an unnatural angle, and in the fall, I banged my head really hard on the ground.”

“She has a mild concussion. They didn’t say that she needed to be woken up every hour, though. They said to bring her back if she started to exhibit any more strange signs, however.”

I nuzzled the side of Sutton’s neck, then carried her to the bed. “You should be using crutches.”

“They haven’t brought me any yet,” she grumbled darkly. “Though, Audric asked some doctor friend that they know, and he’s on his way with some. But my bladder was screaming.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And I’m not getting my dad to carry me to the bathroom. I’m too old for that.”

“I’ll carry you when we get home,” I promised.

She scrunched up her nose. “Absolutely not. Those are husbandly duties, and you’re not that yet.”

I tilted my head to the side slightly before saying, “Well, your parents are here. And I live really close to city hall.”

She scoffed. “Sorry, Charlie. But if we’re ever together for long enough that you want to ask me for real, and not because you’re scared, I want it the right way.

I want you down on one knee in the middle of a park with geese and ducks and butterflies all around.

I want a huge ass wedding where I’m not maimed at the reception.

I want the whole nine yards, and I want it with a man that’s so absolutely in love with me that he cries when I walk down the aisle toward him. ”

I blinked. “I’m not sure that I can give you the crying, but the rest of it doesn’t sound impossible.”

She smiled but didn’t outright disagree with me any longer.

“All right,” I heard said from behind me.

“You are free to go home, Ms. Sway. Here are your crutches, your release paperwork, and the doctor already called your prescription into the pharmacy. I highly suggest taking it because it has a muscle relaxer with it and it’ll seriously help with the pain in your ankle. ”

Instructions were distributed, and long minutes later we were allowed to leave the hospital.

Sutton crutched her way out of the hospital.

The only thing that I was allowed to hold of hers was her brand-new running shoe that they’d taken off of her.

“Are y’all going to be staying here?” I asked as we headed toward my truck since it was the closest.

“No.” Ted, Sway’s dad, shook his head. “If you have this now, we’re gonna head back. I left the water hose on filling up the duck’s pool. Mathilda is fairly sure she left the chicken coop open. And we have no clothes. We will be back this weekend to check on her if that’s all right.”

“It’s perfectly all right.” I held out my hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

He winked. “You got here as soon as you could. Don’t think that we didn’t notice you speeding at the sound of light on your way here.”

I’d shared with them my location on Life 360 when they’d given me a call and let me know that they were with Sutton, and that she was banged up, but not too badly.

They’d also given me hourly updates on how she was doing and kept me apprised of every test that they’d run since she’d arrived at the hospital.

“Let us know if you need anything before we’re back this weekend,” Mathilda urged. “Take care of my little girl.”

I pulled her into a hug while whispering, “Always.”