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Crashed (Driven #3) Page 6
Author: K. Bromberg

“We know, sweetheart,” she says as she pulls me into her arms and clings to me, both of us holding each other up. “We know.”

“He’s strong,” is all Andy says as his hand rubs up and down my back to try and comfort me. But this—hugging his parents, all of us comforting each other, the tear-stained cheeks and muffled sobs—makes it all too real. My hope that this is all a really bad dream is now shattered.

I stagger back and try to focus on something, anything, to make me feel like I’m not losing it.

But I keep seeing Colton’s face. The look of absolute certainty as he stood amid all of the chaos of his crew—the same crew that sits around me, heads in hands, lips pulled tight, eyes closed in prayer—and admitted his feelings for me. I have to stop to try and catch my breath, the pain radiating through my chest, in my heart, just won’t stop.

The television pulls at me again. Something whispers through my mind and I turn to look. A trailer for the new Batman movie. Hope reawakens as my mind reaches into its depths—into the past hour.

The Spiderman book on the table. The Superman shoes. The Batman movie. I try to rationalize that this is all just a coincidence—that seeing three of the four superheroes is a random occurrence. I try to tell myself that I need the fourth to believe it. That I need Ironman to complete the circle—to be the sign that Colton will pull through.

That he will come back to me.

I start searching, eyes flitting around the waiting room as hope looms and readies itself to blossom, if I can just find the final sign. My hands tremble; my optimism lies beneath the surface cautious to raise its weary head.

There is sound toward the hallway and the noise—the voice—causes every emotion that pulses through me to ignite.

And I’m immediately ready to detonate.

Blonde hair and long legs breeze through the door and I don’t care that her face looks as devastated and worried as I feel. All of my heartache, all of my angst rears up and is like a rubber band snapping.

Or lightning striking.

I’m across the room within seconds, heads snapping at the growl I let loose in my fury-filled wake. “Get out!” I scream, so many emotions coursing through me that all I feel is a mass of overwhelming confusion. Tawny’s head whips up and her startled eyes meet mine, her enhanced lips set in a perfect O shape. “You conniving bit—”

The air is knocked out of me as Beckett’s strong arms grab me from behind and yank me back into his chest. “Let me go!” I struggle against him as he grips me tighter. “Let me go!”

“Save it, Ry!” He grunts as he restrains me, his reserved yet firm drawl hitting my ears. “You need to save all of that fire and energy because Colton’s going to need it from you. Every goddamn ounce of it.” His words hit me, punch through the holes in me, and sap my adrenaline. I stop struggling, his grip around me still iron clad, and the heat of his breath panting against my cheek. “She’s not worth it, okay?”

I can’t find my words—don’t think I’m capable of coherency at this point—so I just nod my head in agreement, forcing myself to focus on a spot on the floor in front of me, rather than on the long legs off to the right.

“You sure?” he reaffirms before slowly letting go and stepping in front of me, forcing me to look into his eyes, to test if I’ll be true to my word.

My body starts trembling, held captive to the mixture of anger, grief, and the unknown coursing through me.

My breath hitches as my lungs hurt with each breath. It’s the only hint of the turmoil I feel inside when I meet the kindness edged with concern in Beckett’s eyes. And I feel so horrible that he’s here trying to take care of me when he loves Colton and is reeling from the unknown just as much as I am, so I force myself to nod. He mimics my action before turning around, his body blocking my line of sight to Tawny.

“Becks …” She sighs his name and her voice alone chafes over my exposed nerves.

“Not a fucking word, Tawny!” Beckett’s voice is low and guarded, audible only to the three of us despite the numerous pairs of eyes watching the confrontation. I see Andy rise to his feet from the other side of the room as he tries to figure out what’s going on. “I’m letting you stay for one reason and one reason only … Wood is going to need everyone he has in his corner—behind him if he …” he says, choking on the words, “when he pulls out of this … and that includes you, although right now after the stunt you pulled between him and Ry, friend is a very loose term when it comes to you.”

Becks’ words take me by surprise. I hear the noncommittal sound she makes before a momentary silence hits … and then I hear her start to cry. Quiet, sorrowful whimpers that break through the hold on me that Beckett’s voice couldn’t.

And I snap. My reassurance to Becks that I’d save my strength vanishes right along with my restraint.

“No!” I scream, trying to push Beckett out of the way and take a swing. “You don’t get to cry for him! You don’t get to cry for the man you tried to manipulate!” Arms close around me from behind, preventing me from landing my punch, but I don’t care, reality’s lost to me. “Get out!” I shout, my voice wavering as I’m dragged away from her stunned face. “No!” I struggle against the restraining arms. “Let me go!”

“Shh-shh-shh!” It’s Andy’s voice, Andy’s arms that are holding me tight, trying to soothe and control me at the same time. And the only thing I can focus on—can grasp onto as my heart races and body shakes with anger—is that I need a pit stop. I need to find Colton. I need to touch him, to see him, to quiet the turmoil in my soul.

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K. Bromberg's Novels
» Sweet Ache (Driven #7)
» Aced (Driven #5)
» Raced (Driven #4)
» Crashed (Driven #3)
» Fueled (Driven #2)
» Driven (Driven #1)
» Hard Beat (Driven #8)