Monty Worshack couldn’t decide what woke him first—the incessant beep, beep, beep of the machines or the pain radiating through his body.

What the hell happened?

Even as the thought entered his agony-riddled mind, Monty recalled…everything. Fear spiked within him as he remembered the sound of the trapeze line snapping. The feel of air rushing past his face had taken his breath away, and not in the way he relished. Monty had screamed as he’d seen the floor of the practice tent rushing toward him, his mind blanking in disbelief as he spotted the fallen left corner of the safety net.

Snapping his eyelids open, Monty panted softly as he stared at the ceiling. As expected, it was a sterile white. Still, that view was better than the memory reel playing across the backs of his eyelids.

Monty slowed his breathing, doing his best to push those thoughts from his mind. Instead, he counted the paint globs within his field of vision. He also focused on each measured exhalation, imagining with each breath out that he was expelling the pain, allowing him to beat back the waves of agony buffeting his body.

“Well, hello, Mister Worshack,” a feminine voice greeted, heralding the arrival of a nurse. A blonde’s smiling face appeared in Monty’s line of sight. “We’re so very pleased to see you awake.”

We? What we?

Monty only saw her.

As the woman shown a light into Monty’s eyes, she told him, “My name’s Nurse Matilda, and I imagine you have a few questions.” She put the light away before patting his wrist. “I’ll let Doctor Lorrenz know you’re awake. I’m certain your family will be pleased to hear it, too.”

Family?

Wait. What?

Wanting to question her, Monty opened his mouth. His voice came out a quiet rasp as he muttered, “Wait.” Fortunately, that was enough to catch the nurse’s attention, and she turned back to face him. “W-Water,” Monty forced out.

“Just a little,” Nurse Matilda told him, crossing to a side table. “We don’t want your stomach upset.”

Whatever.

Monty opened his mouth when she offered him the straw. He sucked down two mouthfuls before he noticed her pulling it away. Managing another half a mouthful before she could get the straw out of his mouth, Monty rolled that across his tongue for a few seconds.

When Nurse Matilda patted his shoulder lightly and told him, “Be back in a minute,” Monty swallowed the water.

“What family?” Monty managed to ask.

Nurse Matilda paused and smiled at him once more. “Your parents, of course.”

Oh fuck.

Monty’s brain stalled at that news. Nothing good ever came from him dealing with his parents. Monty hadn’t seen them in over a decade. Instead, he used a lawyer to converse with them.

Before Monty could order them away from him, Nurse Matilda was gone.

Shit.

Blowing out a breath, Monty returned his focus to the ceiling. His mind began to drift, and he realized he had to be on pretty heavy pain meds. Blinking quickly, Monty did his best to focus. If his parents were allowed in the room, he knew he would need his wits about him, pain or not.

Monty slowly turned his head, looking left and right. It took two sweeps over the sides of his bed to spot the call button. He moved his right hand, and a fresh wave of pain stabbed through him.

That was when Monty registered the cast on his right wrist. Growling softly, he glared at the offending item that covered his arm from below his elbow to his palm. Monty bit back a growl of frustration as he wondered why the hell the remote with the call button would be set up on the same side of his bed as his injured wrist.

Breathing deeply, Monty lifted his arm. He felt sweat break out on his temples and brow as he reached for the device. As he pressed the button with his forefinger, causing a spike of agony to erupt up his arm, the heartrate monitor beside his bed went off, filling the air with more and more beeps.

Damn annoying machine.

Hearing the sound of running footsteps, whether in response to the call button or the incessant beeps, Monty didn’t know and didn’t care. All he cared about was the fact that a man in hospital scrubs came rushing into the room. Nurse Matilda was right behind him.

“Easy now, Mister Worshack,” the guy soothed, stopping beside the bed. He glanced at the machine, then stared down at Monty. “Take a few nice deep breaths for me. I can’t give you more pain meds quite yet. It’ll be another hour, so let’s try to relax a little on your own.” His dark eyes held a note of concern. “Seeing as you just woke up, I really don’t want to have to sedate you.”

Monty did as the man ordered, easily getting his pulse back under control. Hell, controlling his pulse—and nerves—had become a way of life for him. Ever since Monty had taken up gymnastics when he was seven years old, he’d learned to regulate his breathing.

“That’s good, Mister Worshack,” the man encouraged. “Very good.” He smiled at Monty. “Oh, I’m Doctor Lorrenz, by the way.” The doctor chuckled, a wry smile curving his lips. “Now, let’s go over what happened. Shall we?” Before Monty could hope to answer, Doctor Lorrenz added, “I’ve already gone over your care and next steps with your parents, and they’ve assured me you’ll have plenty of help, so try not to panic upon hearing anything I tell you, okay, Mister Worshack?”

Scowling at Doctor Lorrenz, Monty finally found his tongue. “My parents are not my emergency contact. Why did you call them?”

“I don’t recall who called them or why,” Doctor Lorrenz stated slowly. He rested one hand on Monty’s shoulder and lifted the other in placation. “That was done while I was in surgery with you.”