Page 56 of Breathe Me In

I begged Brad with my eyes, but he looked away.

“Come on, man, you can’t do anything anyway.” I couldn’t see Kennedy, but I knew it was him. “Let’s get this guy.”

“Bree, I’ll be back soon. I promise you. I have to go.” He squeezed my hand again, and it lingered there for a moment.

“I got her.” Brad’s face was replaced by Sherry’s. Is this a nightmare? She smiled down at me. Then the ambulance doors closed with a bang, and Sherry settled in next to me. The EMT started taking my vitals as someone banged on the door, and we were off with the sirens blaring. I closed my eyes as the sound became too much.

“I need you to stay with me, Bree.” Kelly squeezed my arm. “I need you to fight the urge to sleep.” I didn’t like that idea.

“Bree?” Sherry loomed over me. Her eyes mocked sympathy. “I know Brad and I are divorced, but you should know he struggled with a deep depression for several years. He just didn’t seem to care about anything, and it drove a wedge in our marriage, and at some point, I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I ended it.”

I couldn’t believe she was taking advantage of my vulnerability to talk about her relationship with Brad.

“But he still needs me. He’s always needed me, and I think that point was made clear when we got married.”

“All right, that’s enough, Sherry. I’ve got a job to do here, and I think you’ve said your piece.” Kelly leaned in and began to feel around my body. “Bree, does it hurt anywhere? If anything does, just let me know.” I flinched when she touched my left side. “Okay, that’s a yes, sorry.”

“I’m sorry you’re in pain, Bree,” Sherry continued and ignored Kelly when she gave a loud huff. “I’m not trying to be a bitch. I’m just saying if you’re going to start something with Bradley, just know I will always be a part of his life. So, we’re going to have to find a way to get along.”

The topic of Brad and Sherry was becoming too much. The heartbeat on the monitor slowed as I slipped off to a dark bliss. Good. I needed to be alone and not trapped in this steel box with Sherry.

Beep, beep, beep. I woke to a horrible beep that felt like a sledgehammer to my head. Nope, I wasn’t ready to be back here. I closed my eyes again.

I heard the sound of people in the room whispering.

“A witness across the lake said the asshole kept his light bar on her truck until it sank.” It was Kennedy’s voice, but I was too tired to open my eyes.

“Concussions are a tricky thing.” I didn’t recognize the man’s voice. “The brain decides if it can repair itself or not. It’s just a waiting game.”

“Thanks, Doctor.” I heard my mom’s voice, and I pushed through the darkness and forced my eyes to open just in time to see her turn and look at me. “Bree?” She leaned over the bed and started to cry. “Oh my god, just wait, let me grab the doctor.”

Dad moved into my line of vision and smiled at me warmly. “Welcome back, kiddo.”

The door opened, and the doctor came in and began to shine a light in my eyes. After a few questions he seemed satisfied and had a quiet word with the nurse, then began to write on my chart.

“You had some water in your lungs, so your throat might be sore. Just give it a few tries and see how you feel.” The nurse held a cup and straw to my lips, and I took a few sips.

“Bree, can you tell me where you are?” the doctor asked.

“Hospital,” I croaked out.

“Very good. Do you remember what happened two nights ago?”

Two nights ago? Holy shit, I’ve been out for that long? I nodded.

“Okay, what happened?”

“I was pushed off the road and into the lake.” I was surprised by how much my head hurt as I spoke.

“You weren’t wearing your seat belt, so you hit the windshield.” He gave me a disapproving look, which got my back up immediately. “You’re lucky you survived at all. A hit that hard to the head should have kept you unconscious until you drowned.”

“The truck”—I licked my lips—“hit me, my phone went flying, and I tried to grab it. Belt needed to come off so I could reach it.” Good Lord, I felt exhausted from three little sentences.

“Okay.” He nodded and wrote something else on his tablet. “If you feel well enough, your friends at the SPD want to question you on what happened.”

“Can’t it wait?” Mom pleaded, but Dad placed a hand on her arm, and she nodded. She knew I had to do that. “She’s just been through so much.”

“First seventy-two hours,” I croaked out.