Chapter 27
27
R eeves arrived at the hospital. As he walked in, he didn’t make pleasantries as nurses and hospital workers greeted him. Pushing the elevator button, he checked the time on his watch. When the door opened, he stepped in and looked at his reflection in the elevator mirror. He saw his shirt was dotted with Paul’s blood. He didn’t care, he needed to put his eyes on Stormy.
Stepping off the elevator, he saw his family gathered in the waiting room, their faces a mix of tension and quiet resignation. Monroe, Parker, Jackson, and Whiskey were all there. Even Maria. He paused for a moment, scanning their expressions before he stepped further into the room.
He could feel the weight of their eyes on him as he walked, his heart pounding in his chest. Each step felt like it took him further from any kind of hope, yet closer to the truth. He drew in a breath, trying to steady himself for whatever they’d tell him about Stormy’s condition. The air in the room was thick, heavy with anticipation.
“How is she?” he finally asked, his voice quieter than he intended. They all knew how much Stormy meant to him.
Monroe was the first to speak, his jaw tight as he looked up from his seat. “We don’t know yet,” he said, a touch of frustration in his voice.
Parker’s gaze was a little softer. “The doctors are still with her.”
Whiskey remained silent, clearly torn up by what had happened to her best friend. A woman closer than a sister. Tears filled her green eyes as she continued to stare at him.
Jackson, usually the steady one, looked uneasy, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His shoulders were tight, as though he were holding onto something—something too heavy to let go of.
Maria stood near the window, her back to the room, her hands clasped in front of her. She turned slowly, meeting his eyes. There was a heaviness in her expression, a quiet understanding of the not knowing, and what might come.
He could feel the knot in his stomach tightening. “How bad is it?” The words tasted bitter on his tongue.
“She was crashing when we got here,” Monroe said softly, his voice cracked but steady. “But she’s in good hands. We just… we need to stay positive.”
He nodded, though the cold dread in his chest was threatening to swallow him whole. What if this was the end? What if Stormy couldn’t pull through?
But he wouldn’t let himself think that way. Not yet. He had to stay positive. For him. For Stormy. For everyone.
He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to push past the panic rising in him. “I need to see her,” he said, his voice firm now.
“They’ll come get us when we can go in,” Whiskey spoke, her voice low, filled with fear and sadness.
When the news finally came, it hit him like a breath of fresh air. Something he couldn’t grasp fully at first. Stable .
The word echoed in his mind as the nurse delivered the update with a professional calmness, which only added to the surreal relief sweeping over him.
“Stormy’s stable,” the nurse said, her voice steady but kind. “She’s being moved into a private room for observation. We’ll keep monitoring her, but... for now, she’s out of immediate danger.”
Hearing the words were like the world had briefly paused, and in that silence, he could feel the weight lifting off his shoulders. Reeves took a breath, letting it out slowly, an exhale of relief. The tension coiled in his chest began to ease, loosening bit by bit.
Behind him, the sound of his family felt like a soft wave of relief breaking through the air. The tension in their shoulders, the worried lines on their faces, began to smooth out. He could hear soft mutterings of thanks.
It was a collective exhale, shared among them all. Even Maria, who had been so still and composed, allowed herself a tiny smile, though her eyes were still clouded with something he couldn’t read.
“She’s stable,” Monroe repeated, as if testing the sound of the words on his tongue. “That’s what matters.”
Parker stepped forward, her usual chipper demeanor a little shaken. “She’s strong,” she said quietly. “She’ll get through this.”
Jackson was standing still, arms wrapped around his wife’s shoulder, his face set in that familiar, determined way synonymous to him, “Stable’s good,” he said, his voice gruff but caring. “Now we wait.”
Whiskey, who hadn’t spoken much, finally let out a slow breath, the kind of breath that said she’d been holding on tight. “Just gotta help her heal.”
Reeves nodded, feeling the last of his tension bleed away as the adrenaline started to wear off. Stormy had made it through the worst of it. And for now, it was enough.
He looked back at his family, each of them visibly easing, if only for a moment. Then, as if on cue, he moved toward the hallway, ready to follow the nurse’s directions to see Stormy and be there when she woke up, to make sure she knew it was over.
“Let me go in first, but I promise to come get all of you when she wakes up,” Reeves said, more to himself than anyone else.
Walking into the room the only sounds in the room had been the beeping as the monitors kept tabs on her vitals. Reeves let the door close as he moved further into the room. He went straight to the bed to check on Stormy. Brushing a piece of hair from her face, he leaned over the rail and kissed her forehead. Her head moved slightly, he watched as her lashes fluttered, but she didn’t wake up. Smoothing out her blankets, he sat down next to the bed.
Sitting there he was left with his thoughts and the sounds of the machines. He waited and wondered about everything and nothing. Remaining by the bed, he sat watching Stormy as she lay peacefully and silently hoped, she didn’t dream of the horrors that befell her by the hands of her ex.
Reaching through the rails he gently took her hand in his, his vision blurred, Reeves let the emotion break loose. Tears silently ran down his face for both he and Stormy.
A noise from the bed had Reeves scrambling out of the chair. He watched Stormy’s eyes flutter open. When her honey-colored eyes focused on him, he couldn’t breathe. “Stormy,” his voice was low, desperate, and full of relief.
Tears pooled in her eyes as she gripped his hand, her fingers trembling just slightly. “Thank you.” The raw emotion in her gaze spoke volumes.
He felt his chest tighten as her words sank in. Thank you. Simple words, but in this moment, they meant everything. He didn’t need to hear anything else. The look in her eyes was enough to make his heart ache. He knew what she was referring to, she didn’t have to say it outright. She was thanking him for finding her and bringing her back.
Reeves wanted to tell her it was nothing. That it was just what he did, what he was supposed to do. That it was a part of who he was, something he didn’t think twice about. But that would have been a lie. It wasn’t just nothing . It was everything.
More than he could put into words, it was his feelings for her. The fear that had gripped him, the anxiety that gnawed at him when he hadn’t known if she was still alive.
He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand in a quiet attempt to reassure her. “Don’t you ever doubt I’d come for you, sweetheart.”
Her gaze softened, and despite the tears pooling in her eyes, she smiled. It was a fragile smile, but it carried a strength that settled his pounding heart. “I held onto you finding me.”
Swallowing hard, he blinked away the sudden rise of tears that threatened to fall. He didn’t want to break down. Not here. Not now. But the truth of her words hit harder than he’d expected . “That’s all that matters,” he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse. “Never think I wouldn’t.”
She nodded, her grip tightening for a moment before she relaxed back into the pillow. She was safe. “Is Whiskey here?” she asked concerned about her friend.
“The whole family is here,” he informed her, bringing her hand to his lips, Reeves kissed it gently. “Let me call the nurse first, then I’ll bring everyone in to see you. They’ve been worried, and desperate to put eyes on you.”
“Ok,” was all she said trying to control her emotions. She was certain when the door opened, and her friends flooded into the room she would fall apart.
Picking up the call button Reeves called the nurse, “Can someone come in, please? Miss Knight is awake.”
“I’ll have her nurse come right in,” the sound of a female voice cut into his thought.
“Thanks,” Reeves said as he watched Stormy with her eyes closed resting against the pillow.
“Welcome back, Miss Knight,” the nurse said, greeting Stormy as if she’d just arrived at a posh hotel. “Do you know where you are?”
Stormy stared at the nurse, smiled and replied, “The hospital.”
“That’s right.” The nurse smiled at her as she checked her vitals. “It’s nice to see you awake.
“Can we lower this bed rail?” Reeves asked.
“I think it would be fine, Mr. Salvador.” When she got to the door, she turned back and smiled. “You have a waiting room full of loved ones. Would you like them to come back?”
“Yes, that would be nice,” Stormy said giving the nurse a genuine, but exhausted smile.
When the door closed, she felt the impact of the night’s events slam into her. Everything that she’d been through, everything that could have happened. “Hey, I’m right here. Your safe, sweetheart. Paul won’t be hurting you ever again,” she heard Reeves say.
Whiskey’s words came back to her, he’s not the guy you meet two years ago… he’s… dangerous. She was thankful he was who he was.