Page 69 of Rise & Fall

But for some reason I tense up. As I climb onto the landing of the scaffold, something in me stills. Fear.

Reminders of the accident flood my memory as the wind and rain mix together, rummaging through my construction site. But I don’t have time to get down and make sure the scaffold is secure—the mistake I made last time—as I look up to see that the metal is about to blow off and it could seriously hurt someone.

“Thomas, come spot me!” I yell over at one of my crew members, seeing him leave the others at the tarp and run over to the bottom of my ladder.

“All good from here, boss!” He yells up, trying to be louder than the storm. It gets darker by second, rain plummeting relentlessly, making it entirely too slippery to climb.

But regardless, I make my way up the ladder on the side of the scaffold, trying to be as careful but as quick as I can.

As I reach the top, I can see that the piece of metal was torn from one side where it was bolted, probably due to the high winds. All I have to do is secure it back into place. I reach for my cordless power tool from my utility belt and reach over to grab the metal.

But my footing loses grip as the rain makes it impossibly slippery and the force of the wind makes it pretty difficult to see. My foot slips off the edge of the platform.

“Boss!” I hear one of the guys yell down from below. I catch myself on my ass, looking down and seeing that almost all the guys are now at the bottom watching me.

Nerves roll through my stomach, thinking about that night. The fear. I thought I’d never work construction again because of it. I try to lift myself back up, but I’m shaking like a fucking pussy trying to gather my courage.

I’m terrified for some reason. I’ve been in this business for nearly seven years and I choose today to be a wimp.

I finally get myself up to my feet, the sound of a screeching rip barely registers to me before I’m smacked in the head and fall off the scaffold.

I sit up a little straighter as the piercing white lights break through my heavy eyelids. Everything is sore, and my head is throbbing in pain.

I feel a cramp in my back as I try to adjust my posture not really knowing what happened or where I am.

“Mr. Steele, can you hear me?” I open my eyes a little more to see where the petite voice is coming from. I see it’s from an elderly woman, curly gray hair, and she’s wearing a pair of olive green scrubs.

A nurse. I’m in the fucking hospital.

“I need you to acknowledge that you can hear me,” she says.

“Yeah, I can hear you fine,” I respond, giving her a wobbly thumbs up for verification.

“Good. Now, I need you to take your movements very slowly please as I ask you a few more questions.” I listen to her talk carefully, and I answer every question she asks.

She confirms that I do have a concussion and that my left wrist is sprained and I definitely have a minor break in my ankle. On top of that, I have a fractured rib and bruising on my back.

“That was a tough fall you took there, Mr. Steele. You’re lucky to be alive.” She turns around, updates my inpatient board, and then leaves.

What a way to leave a man.

Lucky to be alive.

And I am. How stupid could I have been? I let my fear add to the danger of what I was doing up on that scaffold. I briefly remember seeing the piece of metal being ripped by the wind off its last standing place holder and flying at my head.

Deja vu hits me like a freight train, but I refuse to let myself drown in that memory. It was a long time ago, and I know there’s nothing I can do about it now.

But it doesn’t help that I’m forced to sit here in silence, listening to my jumbled thoughts.

Alone.

Suddenly, I think of Dakota. Is this something I should tell her? I mean, I’ve never really been in this kind of trouble before and I don’t have many people who would need to know if I’m okay or not.

I know the guys probably filled Mitch and Josh in, seeing as they were the ones who witnessed the whole thing and called it in.

And this is not something I would ever catch myself calling Jessica about. I’m alive and it’s none of her business. But I will fill her in on whatever the doctor comes back with as far as discharge instructions and what that might look like where Aria is concerned,ifanything gets in the way of parenting.

But Dakota…I feel like she’s someone I should call.