Hit And Run
~~FINN~~
Delilah hasn’t stopped glaring at me.
She’s sitting to my left in the only visitor chair in the room, arms crossed so tightly across her chest I’m half-convinced she’s trying to fold herself in half. Her legs are angled away from me, but her eyes—they haven’t moved. Not once. Not since the doctor gave her visitation clearance.
“Could you stop with the looks, please?” I grumble, adjusting myself on the hospital bed.
My arm is immobilized in a heavy-duty sling, wrapped and elevated with what feels like ten pounds of gauze and Velcro.
“I’m already in pain as it stands. I don’t need you breathing down my neck.”
Delilah only glares harder.
“I could go to jail for what I did,” she says.
“No, you won’t. I asked you to do it. It was my decision.”
She looks away for the first time, fingers threading through her hair as she rubs her temple. Her voice comes quieter. Tighter.
“Still doesn’t change the fact that I stupidly agreed to break your arm with a hammer and push you down a flight of stairs. You could’ve snapped your neck and died, Finn. I almost had a heart attack when I heard your skull hit that railing. Jesus Christ.”
“It’s alright. I didn’t die.”
She lowers her hand to her lap. Her face is paler than usual. The lip gloss she reapplied earlier has long since faded. Her mascara’s smudging under her eyes, and her earrings keep shaking every time she breathes, like they, too, are on edge.
“That’s why you got me intoxicated,” she mutters. “Because you knew I’d do anything you said when I’m tipsy.”
I roll my eyes and stare at the white ceiling tiles above. She’s acting innocent now. Like we haven’t done worse.
There was the frat house incident in college—the one that ended with half the place covered in foam and the other half in fire extinguisher residue. We'd trashed the place together. Then we'd both snuck out the sketchy fire escape. I still remember the way that structure rattled and bent under our weight. She was always at every party I went to even though she wasn't a student herself. The cops came. Someone else got arrested.
And the senior prank in high school? The one that nearly got Knox expelled? That was all her. I was a sophomore back then, but I knew all about it. Hell, we planned it together. She was the one who eventually talked Knox out of trouble with that sweet, innocent voice and a face that could sell lies for a living.
There was even that weekend in Maryland. She stole a cop’s taser just to test a theory—something about whether electricity would arc across wet pavement. It did. Right into my fucking kneecaps.
That was the thing about Delilah. She’s never been innocent.
She’s just sober now. And sobriety, for her, comes with a little regret.
She's chaotic, loyal, and when she has had just enough liquor in her bloodstream, she stops questioning anything. She’d follow me off a cliff if I said it led to a better view.
When I brought the hammer to her earlier today, she blinked once and asked, “Are you trying to call in sick to work tomorrow?”
I replied, “Part of the reason, yeah.”
She just shrugged. Told me I should’ve snorted crack first. “This is gonna hurt,” she added, swinging back her arm.
She didn’t need to tell me.
The pain shot straight through my bones like electricity. My vision had gone black around the edges. I couldn’t feel my fingers. I heard the crack. Felt it vibrate through my chest.
She screamed. “Oh my God. Oh my God, Finn, what did I do?”
I could barely speak. But I got the words out:
“Quick. Before I change my mind. Push me down the stairs.”
She hesitated.
So I whispered her name in the tone I always use when I need her to be brave for me.
And then I tumbled down three flights of hardwood stairwell like a loaded sack.
Now here we are.
The meds are starting to wear off. I can feel the ache settling in. My body is stiff. My head is a little foggy, but the haze helps.
Delilah keeps wringing her hands like she wants to wring my neck instead.
“Look, Lila,” I say, shifting again. “How about you just go home and rest, okay? I’ll be discharged tomorrow. I’m alright.”
“I broke your fucking arm, Finn.”
“And I love you for it.”
She scowls. Her eyes water, but she doesn’t let the tears fall.
“Just go home. You’ll have the entire bed to yourself tonight. I promise I’ll get you something nice for all your hard work.”
She nods slowly, dazed.
“Alright. But you still haven’t told me why you did it.”
“I was bored.”
Her face twists in disbelief. She opens her mouth to argue, but maybe she can't find the right words to retort. She sighs instead, grabs her purse, and heads for the door.
“See you later, then.”
Before she reaches it, Sloane appears just outside the room.
They both freeze.
Slosne's eyes lock onto Delilah first—narrowing for just a moment—before they land on me.
And suddenly, her whole face changes.
Concern floods her features.
It’s been so long since I saw that look on her face. Since she looked at me like I mattered.
I swear, I almost start crying from relief.
“Finn,” she says, walking in. Her voice breaks a little. “Oh my God.”
She comes to the side of my bed, hovering like she wants to touch me but isn’t sure if she’s allowed. Her hands flutter uselessly at her sides.
God, I want her to touch me.
To place her soft palms on my chest. To say she still cares.
But all I say is, “Sloane. You came.”
“Of course I did,” she says, her eyes scanning the brace around my arm. “What the fuck happened? You didn’t see the car coming?”
I look away.
“I walked into the road. My mind was all over the place.
Her face falls.
I know her well enough to see the guilt setting in. She’s blaming herself. Thinking maybe it was her silence that sent me spiraling. And I don’t stop her.
Let her feel it. Let her stay.
“Has the driver been arrested?” she asks.
“Hit and run,” I say. “Honestly, it’s fine.”
Delilah, still by the door, suddenly steps forward.
“I can't believe this,” she says. Her voice is low and dangerous. “You know what, Finn? I wish that CAR had crushed your fucking skull and left you for dead.”
“Lila,” I start.
But she flips me off.
And walks out without another word.
Sloane frowns in confusion. “What was that about?”