Chapter 146 Chapter 146
Violet
The fluorescent lights were too bright. That was the first thing I registered when consciousness started creeping back. The harsh, sterile white light boring through my closed eyelids like needles. Every muscle in my body hurt as if screaming for attention.
I tried to open my eyes, but my lids felt like they were made of lead. My mouth was dry, tongue thick and fuzzy against the roof of my mouth. There was a steady beeping sound somewhere to my right, that felt like a hammer pounding against my skull.
Voices filtered through the haze, a few known though most of them were unknown.
"Complete disgrace."
"Could have killed him."
"What was he thinking?"
The words didn't make sense yet because everything was fragments, pieces of a puzzle that my brain couldn't quite fit together.
I forced my eyes open, blinking against the brightness that sent spikes of pain through my skull. White ceiling tiles came into focus slowly, each one identical and perfectly square. The distinctive antiseptic smell of a hospital filled my nostrils. I slowly looked down at my arm when I felt a slight pinch and noticed an IV line snaking into my arm, the tape pulling uncomfortably at my skin.
I was in a hospital.
The realization brought a flutter of panic, and with it, more awareness. My head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. My stomach felt hollow and queasy at the same time.
Slowly, carefully, I turned my head to the left. The movement made the room spin violently for a moment, the ceiling tiles blurring together before settling back into their neat rows.
The hospital room was larger than I'd expected, divided by a curtain that had been pulled back completely. On the far side, maybe fifteen feet away, Nate lay in a bed that looked identical to mine. At first, I didn't recognize him. His face was so swollen and bandaged that he looked like a different person entirely.
His nose was clearly broken, pushed to one side and held in place by a metal splint. Both eyes were blackened and swollen shut, purple bruises spreading across his cheeks and forehead like spilled ink.
His lip was split in multiple places, and stitched together that made him look like a ragdoll that had been hastily repaired. More bandages wrapped around his ribs, visible where his hospital gown gaped open.
It was brutal and looked like he had been through a shredder.
Nicole sat in a chair pulled up close to his bedside, her perfect makeup long gone. Mascara was smudged beneath her red-rimmed eyes, and her face was blotchy from crying. She was still wearing her ridiculous "Bride-to-Be" sash, though it was askew now and stained with what looked like dried tears or maybe spilled alcohol. Her hands were clasped together in her lap, knuckles white.
Madison and Veronica stood beside her looking pale and shocked, their usual animated chatter replaced by heavy silence. Veronica kept glancing at Nate's bandaged face and then looking away quickly, like she couldn't bear to see it for long.
The sight of Nate's injuries brought it all crashing back in a rush that made my head spin worse than the physical movement had.
Elijah. Where was he?
I sucked in a sharp breath, and the sudden movement sent a spike of pain through my ribs. But it was worth it because the movement on my right side immediately drew my attention.
Elijah sat in a chair that had been dragged right up against my bed, so close that his knees were almost touching the thin and plain mattress. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, his head resting on his hands balanced somehow on his knees/
His knuckles were split open, the skin torn and ragged. Dried blood crusted around the wounds, some of it his, most of it definitely not.
More blood had dried in the creases of his palms and beneath his fingernails. His shirt, which I now recognized as the one he'd been wearing when I'd left for Nicole's bachelorette party, was ruined. Dark splatters and smears of blood covered the front and sleeves, the fabric stiff where it had dried.
But it was his face that made my chest tighten. The fury was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, making his jaw clench rhythmically whenever his attention shifted to the other bed.
But underneath it was something else. Something that looked like fear. Real, genuine fear in those dark eyes that were usually so controlled and calculating.
Behind him, almost hidden in his shadow, Cassie sat in another chair. She had her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. Her eyes were red from crying, and she kept glancing between her brother and me like she expected one of us to disappear.
"Elijah," I croaked, my voice rough and painful, like I'd been screaming for hours.
His head snapped up so fast I heard his neck crack. Those dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat, made my heart stutter in my chest. In an instant, he was on his feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
One hand came up to cup my face gently, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. The other reached for my hand, threading our fingers together and holding on like I might disappear if he let go.
"Violet." His voice was raw, scraped completely bare of its usual controlled tone. "Thank the Moon Goddess. How do you feel?"
I tried to organize my thoughts through the fog that still clung to the edges of my consciousness. "I... what happened? After..." I swallowed hard, my throat clicking. "I remember you hitting Nate, and then..."
Something dark flickered across his expression, there and gone so quickly I almost missed it.
His jaw clenched again, and I saw a muscle jump in his cheek. "Someone hit me from behind. A metal rod. Probably one of the bouncers" He said it calmly, but his hand tightened fractionally on mine.
My eyes widened in fear but he gently reassured me.
"I went down, and when I came to, security had already called an ambulance. They brought all of us here. Don’t worry, I am fine."
"How long have I been..." I couldn't finish the sentence, my mind was still too fuzzy to find the right words.
"About ten hours." His thumb continued its gentle stroking across my cheek, like he needed the physical contact to reassure himself I was real.
"You've been unconscious the whole time. They said..." He stopped, took a breath that seemed to cost him something. "They said you were drugged."
"Drugged?"