Page 162 of Broken Saint

All of this.

We were supposed to be getting our second chance. We weren’t supposed to end up here.

Colt wasn’t meant to end up fighting for his life.

“Mr. Rogers is heavily sedated. We’ll keep him this way for a few days as we monitor him. He won’t react to your presence, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hear you, feel you.”

I sniffle, desperately trying to get a grip on my emotions. If what the nurse is saying is true, then Colt won’t want to listen to me sobbing.

He’ll want me strong. He’ll want to hear me fighting for him. Feel nothing but my support.

Sucking in a deep, steeling breath, I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand and hold my head up high.

West looks back at me and smiles.

With a nod, letting him know that I’ve got this, I grab the door he opens and walk in behind him.

My eyes are everywhere as we’re led through the ward, but despite seeing it all, I don’t register any of it or the kindness on the faces of the staff members we pass.

My only focus is Colt.

He’s lying here somewhere in a hospital bed alone.

We need to find him. He needs us.

“Just in here,” the nurse says, opening a door that leads to a single room. “We’ll be in and out, but if you need anything, please just ask any of us.”

West thanks him, but I can’t speak through the lump clogging my throat.

Reaching up on my toes, I try to look over West’s shoulder, but he’s too tall and wide.

Although, the second we both step into the room and I finally get a look at Colt, I can’t help but wonder why I was in a rush.

“Colton,” I gasp, pulling my hand from West’s and rushing to his bedside. “Oh my god, Colt.”

Everything I told myself outside about being strong is instantly forgotten as I collapse into the chair beside him, clutching his cannulated hand in both of mine.

Seeing him lying there with his eyes closed, machines surrounding him, beeping to their own rhythm with white sheets covering him is just wrong.

“Hey, Bro,” West says behind me, his voice cracking with emotion as he registers the state of his brother.

He walks around the other side of the bed and takes his hand.

“We’re right here with you, man. Whatever you need, El and I have got it covered,” he promises, giving me a wink that forces a single tear from his eye.

The sight of it makes my heart lodge so high in my throat it’s almost impossible to breathe.

It’s bad enough that Colt is hurt, that my heart is breaking for him, but to watch those I love in pain, too? It’s too much.

I sit there holding his cool hand as West explains everything that’s happened since the moment he hit the ground. Despite knowing it all and remembering it in harrowing detail, hearing it repeated is even worse.

And knowing the entire world was watching?

Fuck.

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ELLA