Chapter 36
The first thing I noticed was the beeping.
Soft and steady, it pulled me out of the fog, tethering me to consciousness.
The air was thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic, and something metallic lingered at the back of my throat.
My tongue felt dry, my lips cracked. Everything around me was a blur of white and muted colours, shapes shifting in and out of focus.
My eyes fluttered open, the dim light of the hospital room slowly coming into view. The hum of distant voices and the faint squeak of shoes against linoleum filtered through the haze, grounding me in reality. Everything felt heavy–my body, my thoughts–and then the pain hit.
A sharp, relentless ache radiated from my shoulder, stealing the air from my lungs.
I sucked in a breath, my chest rising in a shallow, shaky moment, and instantly regretted it as another wave of pain flared through me.
My arm was immobilized, wrapped tightly in a sling, the bandage stark white against my skin.
The fabric of the hospital gown was stiff and unfamiliar, the sheets cool against my overheated skin.
I shifted slightly, wincing at the jolt of pain, and that’s when I saw him.
Ryan.
His large, calloused hands were wrapped around mine, his grip firm even in sleep.
His head rested against the edge of the bed, dark hair messy, sticking up at odd angles like he’d run his hands through it too many times.
He looked wrecked. Bruised by exhaustion, his face was shadowed with dark circles, his scruffy beard more unruly than usual.
His shoulders hunched forward, his body bent awkwardly over the chair like he hadn’t moved for hours.
A blur of tears clouded my vision as my gaze drifted across the room.
Connor.
Curled up on a small cot beside my bed, his chest rose and fell in steady breaths. Relief slammed into me so hard I could barely breathe. He was safe.
Beside him, Nina and Liam were sprawled on a makeshift bed of chairs and blankets near the window. Shane was in the corner, slouched in an armchair, his head tilted back, mouth slightly open, a faint snore escaping him.
They were all here.
My chest ached–not from the wound, but from the overwhelming weight of it all. The love. The fear. The fact that I had survived.
I shifted again, trying to sit up just a little, and the slight movement was enough to rouse Ryan.
His head snapped up, bloodshot eyes locking onto mine.
“Harper.”
The way he said my name–like a prayer, a plea, a lifeline–sent a tremor through me.
Tears burned my eyes, matching the ones brimming in his. He looked like he was about to break, and that only made the lump in my throat grow bigger.
I tried to smile. “Hey.”
He lifted our joined hands, pressing his lips to my knuckles. His whole body was shaking.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted, his voice cracking.
A tear slipped down my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Ryan let out a wet, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare apologize. Just–” He broke off, sucking in a sharp breath like he was trying to keep himself together. “Just never do that again.”
I squeezed his hand, my thumb brushing over the rough callouses. “I’ll try my best.”
His laugh was hollow, and then, without warning, he surged forward, his forehead pressing against mine. His breath was warm against my skin, his hands cradling mine like I was something precious, something he couldn’t bear to lose.
I reached up with my good hand, my fingers grazing the rough scruff along Ryan’s jaw. He pulled back slightly, and when I saw the tears streaming silently down his face, mine finally spilled over.
“Get in,” I whispered, shifting as much as I could despite the pain.
He didn’t hesitate. In an instant, he climbed into the narrow hospital bed, wrapping his arms around me with careful, aching tenderness. His warmth surrounded me, steady and strong, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe. Truly safe.
“You’re okay,” he whispered against my hair, his voice shaky yet firm, like he was saying it as much for himself as for me.
“I’m okay,” I whispered back, my lips brushing against his collarbone. “Because of you.”
His arms tightened, his breath hitching against my skin, and I felt the press of his lips against the top of my head. He didn’t let go. And I didn’t want him to.
A small rustling sound made me glance over just as Connor stirred on the cot. His eyes fluttered open, bleary with sleep, and then–
“Mom!”
He shot upright, scrambling off the cot, his feet hitting the floor with a thud before he rushed toward the bed.
Pain jolted through my shoulder at the sudden movement, and I couldn’t stop the wince that crossed my face.
Connor froze. Guilt flickered in his wide, tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
“It’s okay, baby,” I murmured, my voice weak but full of reassurance.
Ryan pulled back just enough to give him room, and Connor carefully climbed onto the bed, curling into my side as if he never wanted to let go. His arms wrapped around me, his face pressing into my chest, and I felt his small body tremble.
“I missed you, Mom.” His voice was small. Shaky. “I was so scared.”
I pressed a kiss into his hair, the scent of his shampoo grounding me even as fresh tears slid down my cheeks.
“I missed you too,” I whispered. “But I’m here, and I’m okay.”
Ryan knelt beside the bed, one hand resting on Connor’s back, the other gently smoothing over my hair. His touch was light, reverent, as if he needed to remind himself I was real.
The commotion must have stirred the others because suddenly, Nina was there, rushing forward, her eyes wide and brimming with relief.
“Harper!” she cried, throwing her arms around me in the gentlest hug she could manage. “You scared the hell out of me!”
I let out a shaky breath. “I’m okay,” I whispered, my voice barely holding steady.
Shane approached last, arms crossed, his jaw tight as he hovered at the foot of the bed. He cleared his throat. “You gave us a damn heart attack, you know.” His voice was gruff, but at the end, it cracked.
I swallowed hard, my gaze moving over each of them–the people who had stayed, who had fought for me, who had waited.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
The hours slipped by in a haze of exhaustion and soft murmurs. Ryan hadn’t left my side once, his presence a steady anchor, grounding me when everything still felt so surreal.
A nurse eventually entered, offering a kind smile as she checked my vitals and adjusted the monitors.
“Okay, guys,” she said gently, though there was no room for argument in her voice. “Harper needs rest, so I’m afraid visiting hours are over for most of you.”
Nina crouched beside Connor, brushing a hand over his messy hair. “How about you come home with me, kiddo? You can have lunch with Liam, and we’ll come back later to see your mom.”
Connor’s face crumpled, his big eyes darting toward me. “But I don’t want to leave her.” His lower lip wobbled, and my heart clenched.
Ryan knelt beside him, his hand resting on his shoulder. “Hey, bud,” he said gently. “Your mom needs a little sleep so she can get stronger. You’ll be back in no time, okay? She’ll still be here, I promise.”
Connor hesitated, his hands twisting in the hem of his shirt, before nodding reluctantly. “Okay,” he whispered, swiping at his damp cheeks with the back of his hand.
Nina stood and held hers out to him. “We’ll make pancakes,” she said, with a knowing grin. “Extra syrup, just for you.”
That earned a wobbly, small smile as he finally took her hand.
Shane stepped forward next, wrapping me in a quick but solid hug before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“Take it easy, Harp,” he muttered gruffly, though the crack in his voice betrayed him.
I blinked up at him, momentarily stunned. “Thanks, Shane.”
Tears blurred my vision again as I took in the people around me–the ones who had stayed, who had shown up when I needed them most. Even everything, they were here. I felt an overwhelming sense of love and safety.
As they filtered out, Ryan leaned over, watching them go. A smirk tugged at his lips. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen Shane kiss someone on the head.”
A soft laugh bubbled out of me, surprising even myself. “Guess I’m special.”
Ryan settled back into the chair beside my bed, his eyes warm as they met mine.
“Always have been.”
The quiet settled around us again, the steady beep of the monitors the only sound in the room. I let my head sink into the pillow, exhaustion tugging at me, but curiosity gnawed at the edges of my mind. “Ryan,” I murmured, turning my head toward him. “What… what happened? With Reid?”
His expression darkened, jaw tightening. Before he could answer, the door swung open, and a doctor walked in–clipboard in hand, offering a polite smile as he approached.
“Good to see you awake, Harper,” he said, his voice warm but professional. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” I admitted, shifting slightly and wincing at the dull throb in my shoulder. “But… okay, I think.”
He nodded, scanning his notes. “You’re lucky. The bullet went clean through your shoulder, missing any major nerves or blood vessels. You were in surgery for a couple of hours to repair the damage, but you’re going to be just fine.”
I tried to shift against the pillows, a sharp ache slicing through my ribs.
A hiss escaped before I could stop it. The doctor glanced up but didn’t comment, his gaze dipping back to the chart.
My whole body throbbed—my eye swollen so tight it barely opened, the skin along my temple burned where the bandage met it, and when I caught a glimpse of dried blood in my hair, my stomach turned.
A shaky breath left me as relief still managed to flooded in, loosening the knot of anxiety in my chest. I was alive. Somehow, we both were.
“You’ll need to keep your arm in a sling for a few weeks and follow up with some physical therapy, but the prognosis is excellent,” he continued, then glanced up from his chart.
“You also have a few other injuries we’re monitoring.
Your ribs are badly bruised—it’ll hurt to breathe and move for a while.
Try holding a pillow between your ribs and the sling to help support that side.
The ribs will likely take a bit longer to heal than your shoulder, but you should start feeling better in about a month. ”
He flipped a page on the chart. “You’ve also got a few stitches above your temple, but no concerning head trauma.
You can come back in about a week to have those removed—” His gaze flicked toward Ryan, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You can come together, actually. Looks like your friend here could use a follow-up too.”
I frowned, turning toward Ryan to actually get a good look at him. That’s when I noticed them—two small stitches just above his eyebrow, the skin around them faintly bruised. A shadow of a smile touched his lips, like he knew exactly what I was seeing.
I swallowed hard, blinking away the sting of fresh tears, and turning my gaze back to the attending. “Thank you, Doctor.”
He gave me a small nod. “Of course. I’ll be back to check on you later.”
As the door clicked shut behind him, I turned back to Ryan. “Now tell me,” I pressed, my voice stronger this time.
Ryan let out a slow breath, raking a hand through his messy hair. His eyes met mine, heavy with something unreadable. “The cops caught him,” he said carefully. “He was driving drunk when they pulled him over. They charged him with a DUI, attempted murder… and a long list of other things.”
A shiver ran down my spine, but I stayed silent, letting him continue.
“They assured me there’s no way he’s getting out of this, Harper,” Ryan said, his voice tight with conviction. “They’ll be in touch with you about the case, but they told me not to worry.” He squeezed my hand. “He’s not going anywhere.”
I stared at him, my thoughts spinning. Relief and fear tangled inside me, a war of emotions I couldn’t fully process yet. My brain understood what he was saying–I was safe. But my body didn’t.
My breath hitched, my fingers twitching slightly in his grasp. A shiver ran through me, my muscles stiffening as if bracing for something–another blow, another night. My heart pounded against my ribs, too fast, too loud.
Ryan leaned closer, his voice softer now. “He’s gone.” His hands smoothed over mine, steady, warm, real. “You’re safe.”
I wanted to believe him. I did. Safety wasn’t a switch I could flip, though. The ghost of Reid’s presence still lingered in my bones, in the phantom pain of his grip on my arm, in the gunshot echoing in my mind.
Tears burned my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them. My fingers curled around Ryan’s like a lifeline. I swallowed hard. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
Ryan’s brow furrowed, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. “For what?”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “For everything. For saving me.”
His jaw tensed. A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes–guilt, doubt–before he shook his head.
His thumb brushed absently over the back of my hand, his gaze dropping for a brief moment.
Then, his expression softened, and without hesitation, he lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to my knuckles.
“I’d do it a million times over, Harper. ”