All Bets Are Off

Chapter Twenty-Five - Ella Fordman & Phoenix Adams: Underneath The Moonlight

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Dedicated to NicoleMarin for the awesome banner to the side. Thanks so much, lovely! :)

 

 

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Phoenix’s POV –

 

 

As I pulled onto the interstate and towards Alessandro, I glanced at Ella for the first time since we’d left our town. I hadn’t allowed myself to look at her before then, for fear that I’d see nothing but thinly-veiled hatred in her gaze.

She was perfectly still against the car seat, and her chest moved rhythmically, alerting me to the fact that she was asleep. Her eyes were still, and her face looked tranquil. Lately she’d always looked so worried, and it was good to see her finally relaxed. She hadn’t looked relaxed around me for a long time.

I hadn’t really slept the night before, and I’d been dosing myself up on caffeine and energy drinks since six o’clock this morning. Considering that was ten hours ago, I was surprised I’d held out this long. But I was going to have to keep going for at least another three hours—either until Ella woke up and took over driving or we stopped and pulled up at a rest stop for the night.

I leaned over and flicked on the radio, turning it down so that it wouldn’t wake Ella. I silently tapped my hands against the steering wheel to the beat of the song, keeping my eyes alert on the road. After the car accident, I’d become much more aware when it came to the road, and I abided the law a lot more now.

I was still in a lot of pain from the accident, but I’d never let Ella know that. She wanted this scholarship badly, and I wasn’t going to stop it just because I had a bruised ribcage. If I could make it through the next five days, I was free to recover for however long I needed to.

My mind flashed back to the doctor’s appointment I’d had on Wednesday afternoon with the physician who had looked over me whilst I had stayed at the hospital. Her name was Doctor Beckett, and, though she was a nice enough lady, she took her job very seriously.

“You can’t go,” she’d told me, shaking her head. I’d just gotten done explaining my situation, though she looked like she could care less. Her blonde hair was tied back into a severe bun, and she’d stared at me over the rims of her glasses disdainfully, her blue eyes boring into mine.

“Why not?” I’d replied.

“Phoenix, you just got hit by a car last week. You sustained serious injuries. You almost died!” she said disbelievingly, as if I wasn’t aware of that fact. Well, believe me, I knew. I’d been on the opposite side of that car. And let me tell you, it had not been a pleasurable experience. “You’re in no condition to dance or go away for long periods of time. You could relapse at any moment.”

“I’m not a drug addict,” I’d replied, snippier than I’d intended. “I won’t relapse. I’m fine. I feel great. Better than ever. Really.”