Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
N oah hadn’t seen his brother in almost a year. Paul was always busy running an emergency department, Noah was always wrapped up in his own work, and neither of them had ever been the kind to check in unless absolutely necessary.
Apparently, this was one of those times. Paul Kandor—brilliant ER doctor, pain-in-the-ass older brother, and certified ski bunny magnet was supposed to be off in Aspen, indulging in some much-needed downtime. But instead of lounging in a ski lodge, he showed up unannounced, looking for Noah.
Noah didn’t even know Paul was in town until his older brother walked into the hospital room like he belonged there. For a split second, Noah thought he was imagining things. He was running on exhaustion, barely keeping himself upright. But no, it was definitely him—same relaxed stride, same assessing gaze, same Paul. Except Paul never just showed up.
“What the hell?” Noah pushed himself up from the chair. “Paul?”
Paul smirked slightly, like he had expected that exact reaction. “Hey, little brother.”
Noah blinked at him. “What are you doing here?”
Paul leaned against the doorframe, his sharp gaze already flicking to Ruth. His expression shifted slightly—not quite unreadable but guarded.
“I was coming to surprise you,” Paul admitted, his voice even. “Needed a break from work, figured I’d see how my little brother was doing.” His smirk faded. “I pulled up at your house to find it taped off like a scene from Law and Order . After proving who I was, they filled me in about the explosion. You okay?”
Noah dragged a hand over his face. Of course Paul knew. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Not exactly how I wanted us to catch up.”
Paul’s gaze flicked over him now, scanning him like a patient. Noah could feel him cataloging the injuries— the bandage on his temple, the stiffness in his movements, the way he was favoring his left side.
“You don’t look great,” Paul said, a hint of disapproval in his tone.
Noah scoffed. “I’ve been better.”
Paul’s attention shifted back to Ruth, and Noah knew what was coming before his brother even spoke. “She stable?”
“For now,” Noah said. The words felt like a lie.
Paul studied her, taking in the monitors, the bandages, the oxygen. Noah didn’t miss the way his brother’s posture stiffened, the way his fingers flexed slightly at his sides. He saw it. The thing Noah hadn’t said yet.
Paul’s frown deepened. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Noah met his gaze and held it. “Someone’s still trying to kill her.”
Paul’s body went rigid. “The car bomb?”
Noah shook his head. “No. That wasn’t enough for them.” His voice dropped. “Someone got into this hospital. Dressed as a nurse. They tried to inject something into her IV.”
Paul inhaled sharply. That got his attention.
The easy-going, relaxed brother was gone. In his place stood the ER physician, the man trained to stay calm in the worst kind of chaos.
“Jesus, Noah,” Paul said, his voice lower now.
Noah didn’t respond. There was nothing to say.
Paul exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Do we know what it was?”
“Brad’s getting it tested now,” Noah said. “But whatever it was, it wasn’t good.”
Silence stretched between them. Noah had expected a lecture, a warning that he was too involved, that this wasn’t his fight, that he needed to let the police handle it.
But when Paul looked at him, his expression shifted. Understanding. His brother had already figured it out. Noah wasn’t going to sit back and let someone else protect her.
And when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. More certain. “Tell me what you need.”
Noah blinked. “You’re serious?”
Paul shrugged. “You’re my brother. And I know you. You’re not going to sit back and do nothing.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “So, if you’re running off into the wilderness with a critically injured woman and a target on your back, you’re sure as hell not doing it alone.”
For the first time in days, Noah felt a small fraction of the weight on his chest lift. Paul wasn’t here to stop him. He was here to help.
Noah nodded once. “Then let’s get to work.”
* * *
Ruth drifted awake slowly, as if emerging from deep water. The first thing she registered was the murmur of voices. Low, steady, familiar and unfamiliar all at once.
She blinked, but darkness met her.
Panic flared in her chest before she remembered—she couldn’t see.
Disoriented, she tried to make sense of where she was. The air smelled too sterile, too clean. A hospital. But why?
Something was wrong. Something was missing.
Her mind grasped at fragments—pain, voices, fear.
And then—Noah.
Her fingers twitched against the blanket.
"Rae?" His voice. Close. Solid. Unwavering.
She latched onto it instantly. “Noah?” Her voice came out hoarse, fragile.
“I’m right here.” A hand, warm and strong, slipped over hers.
Relief coursed through her at the contact, but beneath it lurked something unfamiliar. Why did it feel like there was something she should remember about him—something just out of reach?
Her fingers curled into his, her breathing uneven. “Where…?”
“You’re in the hospital,” Noah said gently. “You were hurt. But you’re safe now.”
Safe. The word didn’t feel real.
Ruth swallowed, trying to force her scattered thoughts into order. But the effort was like trying to hold on to mist. She sensed movement to her left. A presence she didn’t recognize.
Noah must have picked up on her unease because he squeezed her hand slightly. “Rae, there’s someone I want you to meet. This is my brother, Paul.”
Ruth took a slow breath, processing. “Your brother?”
“Yeah,” Paul’s voice came—calm, controlled, but carrying something else beneath it. Curiosity. "Hi, Ruth. It’s good to finally meet you."
She turned her head slightly in the direction of the voice, though it didn’t make much of a difference. Ruth hesitated, unsure how to respond. Had they met before? Should she remember him? She felt Noah shift slightly beside her, his grip still grounding her.
* * *
Noah sat beside Ruth’s hospital bed, his fingers curled loosely around hers. She was too still. Too quiet.
The beeping of the monitors filled the room, a steady, relentless sound that somehow felt wrong. She was breathing. Her heart was beating. But something in his gut told him this wasn’t just exhaustion.
She stirred slightly, her fingers tightening around his. That small motion shouldn’t have hit him as hard as it did, but he felt it everywhere.
Paul stood nearby, arms crossed, watching them. Noah could feel his brother’s eyes on him, assessing. Paul had always been quick to read a situation, to pick apart the details everyone else missed. His gaze flicked back to Ruth, lingering. Then he frowned. Something was off, and they both knew it.
Before Noah could ask, the door swung open.
Tristan and James moved with the kind of quiet precision that came from years in medicine. Controlled. Experienced. Exactly the kind of people Ruth needed right now. “Hey, Ruth, it’s Tristan and James.”
Her eyes fluttered for a brief second, barely opening before closing again. Her breathing evened out—slipping back into sleep.
Noah’s chest tightened. Tristan didn’t say anything as he moved to check her monitors. James nodded at Paul before glancing at Noah.
“You must be Noah’s brother.”
Paul nodded. “I am. And I need to be caught up. Fast.”
James didn’t waste time. “Ruth suffered a large subdural hematoma from the blast. We performed an emergency craniotomy to relieve the pressure. The swelling is going down, but we don’t know if the blindness is permanent.”
Noah exhaled slowly, gripping her hand a little tighter. Blindness . The word alone was enough to make him feel sick.
Paul frowned. “Her confusion—how severe is it?”
Tristan’s gaze flicked toward Ruth. He hesitated for a beat before speaking. “We don’t know yet. Some of it could be post-traumatic amnesia. Some of it could be from the pressure on her brain. We are running bloodwork to see if the fake nurse injected her with something. We do see it is worsening. The picture is still foggy.”
Noah looked between them, his stomach knotting. “She… she doesn’t seem to remember things. She asked me a question earlier that she should have already known the answer to. Could the memory gaps be permanent?”
James sighed. “It’s too soon to tell. With head trauma, memory issues are common—sometimes temporary, sometimes longer-lasting. It depends on the extent of the damage.”
Not good enough.
Not even close.
Noah rubbed his thumb over Ruth’s knuckles, trying to ground himself. She was right there, warm and breathing, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to know she was really there—all of her.
Paul met his eyes. “She doesn’t remember conversations? Or full events?”
“Little things,” Noah said, his voice tight. “Like she’s losing pieces of time. It’s not constant, but it’s there.”
Paul exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “She’s not just tired. She’s sicker than she looks.”
Noah swallowed hard. He knew Paul was right.
Then the door opened again, and the room grew crowded fast as Ruth’s family arrived—Charlotte, Sophie, Molly, Isobel, Olivia—followed closely by Brad, Alex, and Evan Shipley. Charlotte’s eyes immediately locked on Ruth, scanning her like a mother trained to detect even the smallest sign of distress. Sophie stood beside her, looking exhausted but determined.
Brad posted up near the door, his entire posture screaming high alert. No one was getting through him. Alex stood opposite him, his face unreadable.
Evan took one look at Noah, then Paul, and crossed his arms. “Alright, let’s talk options.”
Noah straightened, his grip on Ruth never loosening. This was it.
“Staying here isn’t an option,” he said flatly. “We have to move her.”
A tense silence followed.
Paul sighed, already resigned. “I assume you already have a plan.”
Noah nodded. “Evan has a place. Off the grid. Black Hills. It’s safe.”
Charlotte’s expression hardened. “And how do we know they won’t find her there?”
Evan met her gaze without blinking. “They won’t. The house is under my late mother-in-law’s maiden name. No digital trail, no rental records. Not even Tommy knows about it. It’s safer than anywhere else we can put her.”
Brad let out a slow, measured breath. “You realize how insane this is?”
“Yeah,” Noah admitted. “But it’s the only way to keep her alive.”
Alex ran a hand over his face, already doing the math. “Alright. Let’s break it down. What do we need?”
Paul spoke first. “Medical supplies. If she has another bleed, we’re screwed. I need a full kit, and we need to keep a close eye on her vitals.”
James nodded. “We’ll set you up with everything.”
Tristan added, “She’s still weak. Even with the swelling going down, there’s no guarantee she won’t decline.”
Charlotte crossed her arms. “What about security? If someone tried to kill her once, they’ll try again.”
Brad’s voice was stone cold. “I’ll make sure no one follows you.”
Noah’s grip on Ruth’s hand tightened. She slept through all of it. No protest. No argument. Maybe because she trusted him not to ask for permission.
Paul sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You know this is crazy, right?”
Noah gave him a tired smirk. “Since when has that ever stopped me?”
Paul shook his head. But he didn’t argue.
Because they both knew—this was the only way.