Page 20 of Crashed (Driven 3)
Rylee.
Flashes of memories I can’t quite grasp or understand blindside me before disappearing into the darkness holding them hostage.
But where is she?
I fight to gain more memories, pull them in and grasp them like a lifeline.
Did she finally figure out the fucking poison within me? Realize this pleasure isn’t worth the pain I’ll cause in the end?
“Mr. Donavan? I’m Dr. Irons. Can you hear me?”
Who the fuck are you? Ice blue eyes stare at me.
“It may be tough to speak. We’re getting you some water to help. Can you squeeze my hand if you understand me?”
Why the fuck do I need to squeeze his hand? And why is my hand not moving? How the hell am I going to drive in the race today if I can’t grip the wheel?
My heart hammers like the pedal I should be dropping on the track right now.
But I’m here.
And last night I was there, with Ry. Woke up with her … and now she’s gone.
… checkered flag time, baby …
It all zooms into focus at once. And then complete darkness. Checkered holes of black—polka dots of void—throughout the slideshow in my head. I can’t connect the dots. I can’t make sense of anything except that I’m confused as fuck.
All eyes in the room stare at me like I’m the side show at the goddamn circus. And for his next act folks, he’ll move his fingers.
I try my left hand and it responds. Thank fucking Christ for that.
My mind flashes back. Crunching metal, flashing sparks, engulfing smoke. Crashing, tumbling, free-falling, jolting.
… It looks like your superheroes came this time after all …
My mind tries to figure out what the fuck that means but comes up empty.
Rylee’s gone.
She doesn’t love the broken in me after all.
I try to shake the bullshit lies from my head but groan as the pain hits me.
Max.
Me.
She left.
Can’t do this again.
I can’t believe I was selfish enough to even ask her to.
“Colton.” The doc is talking again. “You were in a bad accident. You’re lucky to be alive.”
A bad accident? The flickering images in my head start to make more sense but gaps of time are still missing. I try to speak but my mouth’s so dry all that comes out is a croak.
“You injured your head.” He smiles at me but I’m wary.
