That comment got the reaction I was hoping for. The skin between Rowen’s brows pinched together as she glowered at me for a whole two seconds . . . then that glower morphed into something that too closely resembled pity. That hole in my stomach expanded.
“The doctor said that if you woke up not being able to move anything . . . or feel anything . . . that it might very well mean you’d severed your spine.” Rowen’s chest was rising and falling harder than normal, and Josie’s head dropped to the bed. Actually, it dropped so that her forehead was resting on our combined hands, but the only way I knew that was by sight, not by feel. “But he also said if your spinal cord had suffered a big enough trauma, it might take days or even weeks for the swelling to go down enough for you to move again. Just because you can’t move anything now doesn’t mean you never will again.”
I didn’t realize how short my breaths had become until I started to feel light-headed. I forced myself to breathe more slowly, but it only worked fractionally. Being a bull rider as long as I had, I knew more than any one person should about spinal injuries and what they meant. I’d seen more than my fair share of riders leave an arena on a stretcher only to spend the rest of their lives in an electric wheelchair. In our world, spinal injuries, along with just about any other injury, weren’t only a hazard of the job but a likelihood. However, up until I’d woken up five minutes ago, I’d been under the impression that it would never happen to me. I’d believed I was too damn tough and mean to get injured like this, but I guessed the truth had been more along the lines of me just being foolish and letting my ego overinflate my confidence.
“Percentages,” I snapped, grinding my teeth. “I know he gave them to you, so let’s have them. What was the likelihood he gave you—the percentage—that I’d walk again if I woke up having no feeling from my neck down?”
“Ten percent,” Josie said in the littlest voice I’d ever heard her use. She lifted her head and looked me in the eye. “He said you’d have a ten percent chance of walking if you woke up”—her gaze skimmed my body, her eyelids dropping—“the way you did.”
My breathing got away from me again. “He said this even without the X-rays?”
Josie nodded, one lone tear cutting down her cheek. “He said we wouldn’t know for sure if you’d broken your back until you woke up and got an X-ray, but given the way you hit the ground and how hard . . . he said that it was likely.”
“But they won’t know anything until—”
“Thanks, Jess, but I think I’ve heard enough.” I tried to lift my hand again, but it stayed frozen at my side. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m tired. Would you mind giving me a little space? I’m going to need my energy to face whatever it is I have to confront, I’m guessing. You know, it takes a ton of energy and stamina to curl into a wheelchair twenty-four-seven. I better save up my reserves now since I’ll be spending the rest of my life as a cripple.” I heard that edge working back into my voice. I felt that instinct to push people away and hurt them before they could hurt me clawing to the surface. I knew those were vices I shouldn’t let back into my life, but I couldn’t seem to hold them back. The reality I’d just been confronted with was proving too much for me to handle as the new, less surly and jaded Garth Black. The only way to face this was as the darker version of myself that I’d been sure I’d left behind forever.
Rowen crossed her arms and leaned over me so I had no choice but to look at her. “Just because you might have severed your spine doesn’t give you a right to treat all of us like shit, Black.”
“Thanks for your understanding. Now would you get out and leave me to my bright future?”
Her eyes narrowed as she leaned closer. “You want to push someone away? Fine, push me. You want to be a son of a bitch all over again to someone? Here I am.” She tapped her chest, her eyes boring holes into me. “You want to take out your frustration and anger and blame on someone? Give it to me. But don’t you dare, for one moment, for one fraction of a moment, push her away.” I didn’t need to see the direction Rowen’s finger pointed. “Because if you try, so help me God, I will finish the job of breaking your back if it isn’t done already.”
I huffed, turning my head away from Rowen. Turning my head away from Josie. Turning my head away from the life I’d had because it would never be the same again. “And here I thought marriage was supposed to tame a woman, not make her even more belligerent.”
Josie was crying again, but instead of loud, racking sobs, she was crying quietly to herself. That was by far much worse.
“Black, that’s my wife you’re talking to. Watch it.” Jesse’s grip tightened around the foot of my bed as he lifted a brow at me, challenging me.
“What, Jess? Are you going to kick my ass if I keep at it? You might actually be able to beat me now that I’m paralyzed. Let me have it. What are you waiting for?”
Jesse’s forehead creased as if I’d just stabbed a knife into his gut and given it a twist. Looking around the room, I saw that I’d successfully hurt or pissed off everyone I cared about most in the whole world. I felt on the inside what I felt outside—like shit.
“You want to see belligerent, you just keep it up, bub.” Rowen peaked a brow in challenge before grabbing Josie’s shoulders. “I think you’re right about something though. You do need some privacy to get your shit worked out again.”