No Strings Attached | ✔

XXIII. Facing The Consequences

        I wake up in a hospital bed, dazed and confused. I try to sit up, but instantly I'm greeted with strikes of pain in my abdomen and shoulder and even my face. I groan exaggeratedly and push my head into the pillow, attempting to breathe out the pain as I mumble curse words and insults to life.

        When I'm finally stabilized, I hear a click on my left and some footsteps shuffling inside. I turn my head to see who entered, my heart racing immediately when I see Jonah.

        I want to smile and wave but, when I process his expression, I see it better if I didn't do anything.

        Jonah glances at me with dull eyes, placing a cup of water on my mini bed table. "You're awake." He says with forced casualness. I nod awkwardly.

        I can see the bruises on Jonah's face swelling, currently a light shade of purple. I want to apologize for the shit I've pulled him into, but again, it doesn't seem like the time. Jonah looks particularly on edge, and if I push I'm afraid he might snap.

        Minutes go by, and there's no conversation being held. Jonah doesn't cry with relief that I'm okay and I'm not crying with relief that he's okay. Although--I want to. A lot.

        Finally, Jonah sighs and clears his throat, making his posture straighter and crossing his arms behind his back.

        "Antonio Finley," He says. I look up at him hesitantly, and there I can see the uncertainty in his eyes. "You're under arrest. The second you're out of the hospital is the second you're in jail."

        I find my jaw clenching tight, and I can see Jonah's doing the same. I'm shocked, but this was expected. I just went too far this time.

        I look back down, nodding without any protest.

        Jonah clears his throat once more, staring at me for a moment with what seems like resistance and longing before he heads out the door, leaving this silent room to the silence.