SOPHIE BROOKS:
Party, hook-up, hangover, repeat.
I don't do rules, responsibility, or monogamy.
So when the chance to sleep with the hottest Olympian swimmer in the country presents itself, you can be damn sure I take it.
And sneak out before he wa...
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"You scared the living shit out of me."
"Relax, JJ. It's just a broken wrist," my little brother says, rolling his eyes at my overprotectiveness.
I'm standing beside him as the nurse gets his papers ready so that he can be discharged.
Just a broken wrist?
He should be damn grateful they decided against surgery, or I might never have let him leave the house again. Thankfully they could set the wrist without putting him under general anesthesia.
Just the idea of Ollie on an operating table, even if they weren't going to cut, is enough to bring nausea bubbling up my throat.
I pull in a breath through the nose. "You're never going on that skateboard again."
Ollie had been examining his new cast, but now his eyes are back on mine, half shocked, half defiant. "We both know that's not your call." We have a damn staring contest, as I dare him to question my authority again when he crosses his arms over his chest. As much as he can with the cast, anyway. "Okay, fine. I won't skate again if you tell me you would give up swimming after an injury."
I open my mouth, ready to give him just that, but I pause. Ollie might be a kid, but he's smart as a whip, and I don't want to lie to him. More than that, he would see straight through it. I've been a competitive swimmer for over a decade. Injuries come with the sport, and I've gotten right back in that pool again after every one.
I sigh, shaking my head, knowing it's as good as a concession. "Just promise me you'll be careful."
His grin is slight but victorious. "Promise, JJ."
When Antonella called this morning, I'd slipped out of Sophie's bedroom so I wouldn't disturb her as I accepted the call. And when she'd told me that Ollie was in the emergency room, there had been no more thought process.
I was out of the apartment before we'd even ended the phone call.
It's a damn miracle that I didn't end up in the ER myself because I should not have been behind the wheel. No part of me was present at that moment; my only thought was that I needed to get to Ollie immediately.
It wasn't until I'd practically jumped out of my car and stumbled towards the building that I had realized where I was.
The hospital where my parents died.
Five years apart, they'd both gone into surgery, and neither of them had made it out alive.
I haven't been back here since Ollie was born almost thirteen years ago, but just standing in this building makes my skin crawl with awareness.
Somewhere in this labyrinth of halls and rooms and ORs, my mother and father lost their lives. The only good thing to ever come out of this place is Ollie.
