Chapter 14 - The Fall (Continue)
1423 Words
Dominic
Dom felt the moment everything went wrong.
One second, her hand was in his. Warm, solid, familiar in a way that hadn’t stopped bothering him since the first time it happened.
The next second, she was spinning.
Her foot missed the step. Her weight dropped forward. His grip, meant to stop her, only threw her more off balance.
“No—”
The word barely had time to form before she went down.
The sound her body made when it hit the stone would haunt him.
It wasn’t just the impact. It was the c***k that followed. Sharp. Splitting. Wrong.
His wolf roared inside him.
MATE
Pain—hers—slammed through him like someone had punched a hole through his chest. It wasn’t physical, not really, but his wrists screamed in phantom agony, his stomach twisting with it.
He lunged after her, dropping to his knees, hands hovering inches over her back, her shoulders.
He didn’t know where to touch. That wouldn’t make it worse.
“Kendra!” he choked out.
She was on her knees, hands out in front of her, every line of her body rigid with pain. Her fingers lay at strange angles. Her wrists—
He swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat.
I did that.
The realization hit with the force of a truck.
I did that. I grabbed her. I spun her. I wasn’t careful. I did this to my mate.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted, uselessly. “I’m so sorry. Don’t move. Just… please don’t move.”
She turned her head enough to glare at him through the pain, eyes glassy.
“You…” She dragged breath into her lungs as it hurt. “…idiot.”
Each word stabbed.
“Let go of me means… let. Go!”
He flinched.
He wanted to reach out and steady her. He wanted to scoop her up and run. He wanted to rip time backward and undo the last thirty seconds.
Instead, he forced himself to lift his hands away from her entirely.
“Somebody get the nurse!” he shouted, voice breaking. “Now!”
“I’m going!” someone yelled.
Kids were everywhere, crowding the steps, craning their necks. A few of them lifted their phones, then seemed to think better of it when they caught his expression.
Sofia appeared on the other side of Kendra, dropping with a thud.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Kendra—baby, don’t move, okay? Just breathe. Breathe.”
Kendra let out a strangled sound that might’ve been a laugh.
“I’m… trying,” she ground out.
Dominic’s dad’s voice cut through the chaos a moment later.
“What’s going on here?”
Theatus Garrison pushed through the circle of students. His gaze took in the scene in one sweep—Kendra’s position, the angle of her wrists, Dominic’s pale face.
His jaw tightened.
“Nurse is on the way, sir,” someone said. “We called her. She’s bringing a kit.”
“Good,” Theatus said. His voice was controlled, but Dominic knew him well enough to hear the fury underneath.
The nurse arrived with a small emergency bag; everything blurred together for a bit—questions, gentle hands stabilizing Kendra’s arms, a makeshift sling, instructions not to move her too much.
Dominic hovered, useless, every breath feeling like it scraped his lungs.
He felt everything twice: once as himself, once through the bond—her pain echoing back and forth between them like a feedback loop.
When they helped Kendra to her feet, she swayed.
“I got her,” Sofia said quickly, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
“Careful,” the nurse said. “Slowly. Straight to my office.”
Kendra’s face was chalk-pale under her brown skin, lips pressed tight, eyes shining with unshed tears she refused to let fall.
She didn’t look at Dominic once as they led her away.
His wolf paced in frantic circles.
He just knelt there on the stone steps for a second, breathing hard, the crowd slowly dispersing around him. Someone touched his shoulder; he shrugged them off without looking.
His father’s shadow fell over him.
“Up,” Theatus said quietly.
Dominic pushed to his feet.
“Dad, I didn’t—” he started.
Theatus’ eyes stopped him cold. “Not here,” his father said. “We’ll talk after we know the full extent of her injuries.”
His gaze flicked to Dominic’s hands, still curled uselessly at his sides.
“You will be there,” he added. “To hear every word.”
Dominic swallowed.
“Yes, sir,” he managed.
Hospital. Diagnosis.
Kendra hated hospitals.
They smelled like antiseptic and fear. Bright lights, white walls, people moving too fast and too slow at the same time.
She sat on a narrow bed in a small exam room, both forearms resting on pillows, wrapped in temporary splints and bandages. The nurse had given her something for the pain; it dulled the edges but didn’t erase anything.
Every small movement sent little lightning bolts up her arms.
Sofia sat in a chair near her feet, chewing her lip, one hand wrapped tight around her own wrist. One of the teachers hovered in the doorway, talking quietly with the doctor.
“We’ll need X-rays,” the doctor said. “Both wrists. Possible fractures on both sides.”
Possible, Kendra thought bitterly. It didn’t feel possible. It felt certain.
No one had let her look too closely at her hands before they’d wrapped them. She was grateful for that small mercy.
She stared up at the ceiling tiles, counting the little brown dots in them so she wouldn’t think about anything else.
How was she supposed to write? To dress? To cook? To do her hair? To… anything?
“You doing okay?” Sofia asked softly.
“Can’t feel my fingers,” Kendra said. “Ten out of ten, would not recommend.”
Sofia huffed a weak laugh. “We’re going to take care of you, okay? Me, the girls… you’re not alone here.”
“I know.” The words came out slightly.
She hated that.
She didn’t want to be fragile. She didn’t want to be the girl everyone had to “take care of.” She wanted her hands back. Her independence back. Her ability to slam a door in someone’s face.
Especially his.
The X-rays were a blur of cold rooms and awkward angles. The teacher was kind, talking to her about random things while he positioned her arms.
“So,” he said lightly at one point, “what were you doing? Skateboarding? Sports?”
“Existing,” she muttered. “Bad habit.”
When they finally wheeled her back into the exam room, the doctor came in with a tablet and a sympathetic smile.
“Miss Atchinson,” he said. “We’ve got your results.”
Sofia straightened in her chair.
Kendra braced herself.
“You’ve managed to fracture both distal radii in your wrists,” he said gently, tapping the tablet to show her fuzzy images of bones. “Here and here. On both sides. Two breaks in each wrist.”
Kendra stared at the screen.
Four breaks.
In two wrists.
Her stomach rolled.
“The good news,” he continued, “is that they’re clean fractures. No surgery needed right now. We’re going to put you in full casts from just below the elbow to the hand. You’ll still be able to move your fingers, but you’re going to have very limited use of your hands for the next six to eight weeks.”
He let that sink in.
“Six to eight…” Her voice trailed off.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he said. “We’ll schedule follow-up appointments. In the meantime, you’re going to need help. With writing. Dressing. Eating. Even simple things like opening doors or carrying books.”
He looked at Sofia. “She shouldn’t be left on her own too much, at least for the first week. The pain will be worse then. Ice, elevation. We’ll give you instructions.”
Sofia nodded quickly, eyes bright. “We’ll manage,” she said. “Right, Kendra?”
Kendra swallowed.
“Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”
The doctor left to prepare the casts.
Kendra stared at her bandaged arms.
“I can’t even flip him off properly,” she said dully.
Sofia snorted despite herself. “We’ll invent a new insult gesture,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
- Writer
