Whisky Throttle (Throttle Series, #1)

forty-three

Maddox

Waking up isn't peaceful.

As the exhaustion wears off, I'm bombarded by memories of what happened... Today? Yesterday? How many days have I been laying under this scratchy blanket? Are Calla and Vance okay?

White-hot pain burns through my shoulder while Vance and I fall to the ground. A gunshot rings in my ear. I can see Calla's face blurring around the edges as she presses her sweater against my wound. After that... things are too blurry. The significant amount of blood I lost caused my senses to dull; everything sounded muffled; everything looked blurry. Even my sense of touch was out of tune. Everything felt cold and hollow until I passed out.

Eyes still closed, I squeeze them tight then relax the muscles of my face. I then test the rest of my body, hoping the damage didn't paralyze me. Gratitude and relief overwhelm my senses when I realize I'm okay. My shoulder has a dull ache and there's some tension when I move my arm. Aside from that, I'm not concerned.

"He's waking up," a familiar voice echoes. She threads her fingers through mine, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. My stress chips away. It's Calla.

Fighting against the brightness of the ICU (which is where I'm assuming I am, judging by the sterile scent), I try to open my eyes. They feel heavy, as if they're carrying grains of sand. At first, my vision is blurry; I have to blink several times before I'm able to peek through my lashes and note the surrounding people. I see Calla, a woman dressed in a white lab coat, and... Elyse?

I blink again, gaping at her. "What are you doing here?" I ask. My voice is raw and scratchy. I'm parched, which Calla notices. Releasing my hand, she grabs a glass of water from the nightstand and brings it to my mouth. I don't bother trying to hold the glass on my own as I suck from the straw. My arms are weak with exhaustion. After I'm done, Calla sets the glass down.

My ex-girlfriend smiles. It's a sad smile, but there's a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Dr. Gray called and told me what happened. I'm still on your file as an emergency contact. I was in Italy when she called. It took me a couple days to get back." She exchanges a meaningful glance with Calla. "I'm happy to know you're not alone."

Thanks to the drugs in my system, my bashful emotions are overwhelming. I tear my gaze away from Elyse's olive skin and her dark brown eyes. I forgot Elyse was one of few emergency contacts on my file. Although our relationship wasn't romantic, we cared for and trusted each other. We were friends. "Thanks for coming," I say. "I appreciate it. You didn't have to cut your trip short, though."

"I was unaware of all the good people you've met," she replies. "Even so, I still would've come." Elyse gives my foot a squeeze, and then nods. "I'm going to grab a coffee while the rest of you talk. Take care, Maddox. If you need anything, don't be afraid to call. It was nice to meet you, Calla." She gestures at me. "Protect this one. He's worth it."

Calla flashes a genuine smile at Elyse, tightening her hand around mine. "I will. Always."

Elyse smiles once more before she's heading out the door. If I didn't know Elyse, I'd say she didn't want to act as the third wheel between Calla and I. But that woman knows how to read a room. She's leaving because the doctor is here and we need to get the conversation rolling.