Drew’s eyes fluttered. He tried to open them, but they seemed too heavy. After several attempts, he was able to lift his lids just a little. The light in the room assaulted his sight and he squeezed his eyes shut. Pain registered in several parts—his arm, hands, shoulders and leg. His head felt like hammers were being slammed against it in a steady rhythm.
Drew swallowed and cleared his throat, and then he peeled his lips apart. Dry mouth and a sore throat made it difficult to speak. He tried opening his eyes again. Taking his time, he adjusted to the light. He looked at the florescent lighting, pale walls and monitors. Realizing he was in the hospital, he panicked. The tempo on the monitor increased, beeping faster, adding dings and buzzes to the symphony. Drew struggled to sit up, but pain knocked inside his head and ripped through his shoulder. He cautiously laid back and took a deep breath.
Drew licked his dry lips and before he could call out the word nurse as loudly as he could, one sprinted into the room.
“Mr. Barrington, I’m right here,” she said in her Spanish accent. She tapped the screen of the monitor, checked the levels of the IV and leaned over to look into his eye with a small flashlight. “It’s good to see you awake. Don’t try to speak, okay?” The monitors quieted, returning to a singular rhythm.
The nurse left the room and, moments later, Drew heard the sound of additional feet entering. She returned with a young doctor, who spoke with a soothing voice. Her perfect English made him wonder where he was.
The doctor spoke to him the entire time she poked, prodded, checked and examined him.
“My—” Drew cleared his throat “—my family...”
“Yes, your family has arrived. They came to see you this morning, but you were resting. The pain medication and trauma from your accident can make you very drowsy. We will let them know you’re up as soon as we’re done here. How’s your head feeling?”
Drew winced.
“Yes, you have a pretty bad concussion, but you should be thankful. That helmet saved your life. For several weeks, you’ll experience headaches, dizziness, sensitivity to light, and you’ll find it difficult to focus or concentrate at times, but that will all go away. You also tore your shoulder up so you had to have surgery. When you leave here, you’ll need to follow up with your doctor and go to therapy for several weeks.”
Drew huffed. He didn’t need the doctor to tell him what that meant for racing. So much would be affected by him missing the rest of the season, but he was alive.
“If you could sit up for me.” The doctor helped him lean forward as she placed a stethoscope against his bare back. “So sorry. It’s a little cold,” she said when he winced. “Okay,” she exhaled as she guided him back against the pillow. “You’re all set. You should be able to walk out of here in a few days.”
“Thank you,” he managed to say. The raspy voice didn’t sound like his own. He cleared his throat and tried again.
“No worries, Mr. Barrington.” She turned to the nurse. “Agua.”
Drew remembered he was in Spain. Other snatches of memory came to him in flashes. He put enough of the pieces together to recall some of the accident—those few moments when he went airborne before everything turned black.
Drew lay there as time passed, trying not to become too discouraged. Eventually, he fell asleep. Familiar voices emerged in the distance. Initially, he thought he was dreaming. Squeezing his eyes, he realized the voices were outside of his head. He heard Hunter’s deep voice and then Blake’s. There was a woman. He wanted to flick his eyes open but had to move slowly, knowing the light would hurt. The woman sounded like Cadence. Maybe it was Chey. Then he figured he had to be dreaming because he thought he heard Alana or Jade.
“He’s opening his eyes.”
Drew heard the shuffle of several feet.
“Drew! Can you hear us?”
He peeled his eyes open, blinking repeatedly. Several figures came into focus. Drew nodded and swallowed. His throat was dry again.
“Thank goodness!”
That voice made him want to sit up. Squinting, he looked around the bed. “Ma belle.”
Jade stepped up. “I’m here, Drew.” She cupped his hand in hers.
That wasn’t the voice he’d heard a moment ago. “Alana?” he croaked, cleared his throat and called her again. “Where’s Alana?” he whispered. Jade dropped his hand.
“I’m over here, Drew.”
Alana came into view. The air suddenly seemed fresh. Drew took a deep breath and then managed a weak smile. “Ma belle,” he whispered and puckered his lips. Alana leaned over, kissed him and rested her forehead against his. “Je t’aime, ma belle.”
Alana laughed and cried simultaneously against his temple.
“I told you I was going to make you love me,” he whispered. “And I love you too.” That was all that mattered.