Living In The Shallows (UK Crush #1)

Chapter Twenty

Black. Everything was black. I could hear snippets of words, phrases. Moving my head was agony. My jaw was on fire.

"...do we do?"

"...Paul...accident report..."

"...move her..."

Matty's voice, Gethin's. Concern, anger, fear. I drifted away on a raft of pain.

Later. I could feel nausea, the roiled stomach pain of imminent vomiting.

"Sick," I whispered.

"Shhh! She's awake! She said something! What, love?" Ronan's voice, full of worry.

"Sick," I whispered again. "Going to be sick. Bathroom. Please."

"She needs the toilet, she's going to be sick." Ronan again.

"We can't move her, her neck might be broken!" Matty's voice, angry and tearful. "I'm calling an ambulance."

"How?" I heard frustration and anger in Ronan's voice. "Who? We need her to call anyone, we don't speak the fucking language!"

I rolled my head from side to side, a sickening feeling, bringing the nausea closer. "Not broken. Please," I repeated. "And no ambulance, don't call anyone."

I grayed out again, the pain bringing me back to the surface when I was laid out on the hard tile surface of the bathroom floor. I moaned and tried to sit up. Strong hands held me up to help me reach the commode, and someone gently held my hair away from my face as I leaned over and retched. The pain in my jaw was immense, and I cried as I heaved, tears falling into the bowl. I felt a strong, warm, hand on my back, heard gentle words of encouragement whispered to me as I endured the incredible misery.

Finally I felt finished and released the edge of the bowl and lay back down. Immediately someone wiped my face with a warm, clean towel, which felt wonderful until it reached my jaw, which made me whimper with pain.

"Be careful just there, it could be broken!"

"I'm trying!"

"Please don't fight," I murmured. "And no ambulance. Don't call anyone," I repeated. I tried to make my voice strong. They immediately stopped, and I drifted out to the gray place again, but something was wrong. I was cold, getting colder because of the tile, because my nightgown was wet, soaked through. With water? I couldn't look, couldn't open my eyes, couldn't bend my neck that way. I began to shiver.

"Cold." I said through clenched teeth. "Nightgown wet?"

"What, love?" Gethin leaned in close.

"She says she's cold because her nightgown's all wet," Matty said grimly. "We've got to stop the bleeding, guys, and we've got to get her out of that gown."

Bleeding? I was bleeding? I must have hit my head on the glass top table when I tripped.

I lay on the bathroom floor, drifting in and out of consciousness, hearing snippets of fiercely whispered conversation.

"...have to change her clothes..."

"We can't..."

"...just her nose, thank god..."

"...kill him..."

"One of us will have to go..."

"...she'll lose her job..."

Who knows how much later it was that Matty was kneeling on the floor beside me gently shaking me awake. "Tink? Tink?"

I was freezing, my teeth were chattering, my jaw feeling like it was going to jitter apart each time they made contact. I looked at him, trying to understand what he was saying.