Promise

Chapter 22: If It Were You

Christian

Brightness flooded my vision.

If this was Heaven–or more likely Hell–someone was going to need to talk to someone about the light fixtures here.

I blinked rapidly when a sharp pain went through my head. Wincing, I clutched my head in my hands. I supposed pain meant I was still alive. Otherwise, what was the point?

"Sir, please try not to move."

There was something around my neck, constricting my movements. I clawed at it.

"Please don't do that, cuore mio," a voice said. I blinked my eyes repeatedly because I knew that voice all too well. "Listen to the paramedics."

"Robyn."

"I'm right here," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

Still in the front seat of my car, I took in the scene around me. The passenger side was completely and entirely smashed in. Red and blue were blinking everywhere.

"Get me out of this," I croaked, my mouth dry. I could hardly see her in my peripheral vision.

"You need to stay in it," Robyn said calmly. "Please."

A random face moved in front of me, flashing a pen light in both of my eyes. "Do you have any neck or back pain?"

"Just my right arm."

The EMT, I'm assuming, spoke with his partner and then looked back at me.

"I'm really fine. Get it off me," I ordered, aware I had no authority in this situation but hoped they would do it anyway.

Reluctantly, they pulled the plastic off my neck, and I groaned in relief. Rolling my neck from side to side–which greatly alarmed everyone around me–I stepped out of the car and immediately stumbled.

Soft hands came up to me and held me steady as I tried to right my spine. Robyn was tiny–there was no way she could hold up the weight of my body–but here she was, saving me as always.

"On a scale of 1-10, how bad is your pain?" one of them asked.

"Two," I shrugged.

They stared at me like I was fucking crazy. I was. I didn't feel physical pain very often.

"He has a high pain tolerance," Robyn answered for me, slowly drawing away but I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me, my senses slowly coming back to me as I smelled cinnamon and berries in her hair.

The EMTs shot me a dry look, unimpressed and confused at why I wasn't in more pain.

"You are incredibly lucky," the EMT said. "The car hit the passenger side and not yours. That arm is going to take some time to heal and you might have a concussion but other than that, you're not in bad shape. Do you want to go to the hospital?"

Robyn clipped a yes before I could reply that I didn't need to go.

I looked down at her, noticing red eyes and shallow breaths escaping her.

"Robyn, I really don't need to–"

She glared at me with an unfamiliar intensity that shut me up immediately and then turned back to the EMTs to talk to them about whatever treatment I needed. Her hair was half-up, half-down as she stood in her leggings, white sweater, and a cardigan. Of course, the first thing I noticed was that I could still see her freckles. It immediately made me feel better.

"How are you here?" I asked.

Her throat worked as she stared at the blood on my shirt and the mangled mess that was my arm. "Apparently I'm the emergency contact in your phone."