Chapter 15
Fifteen
B rad took Olivia and Jackson up on their offer to stay at their apartment, needing a place to crash for a few hours. After four hours of sleep, he grabbed his go bag from his trunk, showered quickly, and returned to the hospital. The sight that greeted him was unsettling. Isobel’s face was even more swollen, the stings having left her unrecognizable.
Yet, despite her alarming appearance, Brad felt a flicker of hope when the hospitalist explained that her condition was, in fact, improving. The doctor hoped to pull her breathing tube later in the day, as she was beginning to turn the corner.
Grateful Isobel remained heavily sedated and spared from the pain, Brad found a quiet corner in the waiting room and opened his encrypted laptop. His first task was to send an email to his district commander:
Subject: URGENT: Dr. Isobel Everhart Attacked and in ICU
Commander,
I regret to inform you that Dr. Isobel Everhart was the victim of an apparent attack and is currently in the ICU at Waverly County General. She is in critical condition but showing signs of improvement. I am coordinating closely with local law enforcement and the hospital security team to ensure her safety.
Given the nature of the attack, I believe this situation could escalate and may involve past cases Dr. Everhart has worked on. I will keep you updated as the situation develops.
Respectfully,
Assistant District Commander Brad Killian
Brad hit send and immediately began drafting his next email to Mark Dillon:
Subject: Update on Dr. Everhart’s Condition
Mark,
I wanted to give you a quick update on Isobel. She’s in the ICU, but the doctors say she’s improving. They’re planning to remove the breathing tube later today, and she should be able to go home in a couple of days. It’s still touch and go, but she’s a fighter.
Have you heard anything from your end that might give us a lead on who’s behind this? The local detectives and FBI are on it, but any intel you can provide would be invaluable.
Stay safe,
Brad
With the critical emails sent, Brad settled into the routine of handling administrative tasks, his mind only partially engaged as he mechanically went through reports, updates, and personnel matters. An email notification pinged, and Brad opened it, recognizing his commander's address.
Subject: RE: URGENT: Dr. Isobel Everhart Attacked and in ICU
Brad,
This situation is highly concerning, not just for Dr. Everhart’s safety but also because of your involvement. I’m worried this could get messy, especially with your personal connection to the case. We need to ensure everything is handled by the book. Keep me in the loop on all developments, and make sure to document everything.
Stay sharp,
District Commander
Brad chuckled grimly to himself as he read the last line— It’s already messy , he thought. He couldn’t remember a time when anything involving Isobel was simple.
The day passed quickly, each hour bringing a mixture of anxiety and hope as the doctors worked on Isobel. By late afternoon, they removed the tube from her throat. She was finally breathing on her own, and the airway swelling had decreased.
Brad walked into Isobel’s ICU room and quietly shut the door behind him. The intensivist had convinced her family to go home again, but Brad couldn’t bring himself to leave.
As he approached her bed, his emotions swirled, stronger now than they had ever been. He’d spent years pushing down the feelings he harbored for Isobel, hiding them behind the safety of his relationship with her family. But seeing her like this—so vulnerable—ripped away any pretense he had maintained. He couldn’t deny it any longer.
He loved her.
The realization hit him with a force he couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t just love; it was a deep, possessive need to protect her, to claim her in a way he’d never admitted to himself before. He wanted her to trust him, to depend on him, not just with regards to a case, but in life. The desire to guide her, protect her, and take care of her in every sense nearly overwhelmed him.
His thumb brushed against her bandaged hand, and his mind wandered to thoughts he’d long suppressed. He wanted to take her to his bed, to show her just how much he cared, not only physically but emotionally. He wanted to lead her, to bring her into a Dominant-submissive relationship where he could shield her from the dangers of the world and help her heal from the battles she fought every day.
He imagined what it would be like to see her surrender, not in weakness, but in trust, to let him take control so she could let go, knowing he would always be there to protect her, to hold her, to cherish her. He knew it wouldn’t be simple, and it might get even messier, but he couldn’t deny the depth of what he felt any longer.
As he sat there, the tension in his body slowly unwound, the world outside fading away. For now, all that mattered was being there with Isobel, keeping his promise to protect her, no matter how difficult the road ahead. He’d stand by her side, in any way she needed him. And when she was ready, he would be there to offer her everything, his love, his strength, and the relationship he knew they both needed.
“Isobel,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”
He leaned forward, his forehead resting against her hand, knowing whatever happened next, he would face it with her. And he wouldn’t hold back his feelings anymore.
A tiny breathless whisper, so faint, he almost missed it, broke the heavy silence. “Brad…”
He leaned in closer, his heart aching at the sound of her voice. “I’m here, sweetheart,” he said softly. “How did you know it was me?”
A slight smile tugged at her puffy lips, despite the pain she was in. “Your smell,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Your deodorant.” She inhaled, and her chest seemed to rattle. “The yellow jackets…” Her voice cracked, and tears began to slip from beneath the compresses.
Brad’s heart twisted in his chest as he quickly lowered the bedrail, sitting on the bed beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, careful to avoid the tubes and bandages.
“Shh,” he soothed, holding her close, feeling her small body tremble against his. “I’m here, Belle. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I was so scared,” she whispered, her breath hitching with each word. “I thought… I thought I wouldn’t make it.”
“I know, Belle,” he murmured. “But you’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
She clung to him as if he were the only thing tethering her to this world, her sobs quieting as he rocked her gently. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in her scent, a mix of antiseptic and something uniquely hers.
For a long time, they stayed like that, the beeps and hisses of the machines fading into the background. Brad didn’t care that staying like this wasn’t reasonable or that he’d have to leave eventually. Right now, all that mattered was Isobel, safe in his arms, and he wasn’t letting go.
Isobel's head pounded, and every inch of her body itched and burned with a relentless intensity. Breathing was a painful endeavor, each inhale a reminder of her fragile state. Yet, none of that seemed to matter in the moment. Brad's arms were around her, a haven of warmth and security.
Resting against his chest, she tried to untangle the jumble in her mind. How had wasps gotten into her shower? The thought was absurd, and would be almost laughable, if it weren’t for her lingering terror. Was someone doing this to her? But who? And, more importantly, why?
Her thoughts shifted, as they often did, to her responsibilities. There was so much work left undone. Reports to file, cases to close. Emma—poor sweet Emma. The thought of that innocent girl filled Isobel with a deep, aching sorrow. Was she going to die? The possibility dug at her.
Her mind drifted back to her own mortality. The vivid fear of dying had been so palpable, so consuming. She took a staggering breath, feeling the tightness in her chest, and held on to Brad tighter. He must have sensed her distress because his grip tightened, a silent reassurance he was there, that she wasn't alone.
His lips brushed the top of her head, and he whispered, “Belle.” He was the only one who called her that. In this moment, it felt like a lifeline. It felt like safety.
She closed her eyes, leaning into him, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability. The steady beat of his heart under her ear was a comforting rhythm.
“Brad,” she mumbled. “Why… why did this happen?”
He sighed, a sound heavy with frustration and helplessness. “I don’t know. But I swear I’m going to find out. I won’t let them get away with this.”
A tear slipped from beneath her bandages, and she felt him gently wipe it away. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice cracking.
“I know,” his words were steady and strong, “but you’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever again.”
In his arms, despite the pain and the fear, Isobel found peace. The questions and uncertainties still lingered, but for now, she allowed herself to be held, to be comforted. And in Brad’s embrace, she found the strength to face another moment, another breath, another heartbeat.