Chapter 7
CASSIE
I shifted in my hospital bed and tried to get comfortable, which wasn’t as simple as it sounded.
My left arm was pinned to my side in a cast, and my stomach was sore under the bandage that covered the wound from my surgery, made worse by my broken ribs and the fact that it hurt every time I inhaled.
But the worst part of all was that I still couldn’t see.
The blackness was suffocating, and the nurse had had to give me something for the panic that threatened to drown me in the hours after I’d fully regained consciousness.
The panic was still there, like a deep-sea monster bumping against the bottom of the boat I rowed through the darkness, but it had been dulled by the meds.
I was at the hospital in Carlton — I knew that much because the nurse had told me when she’d come to check my vitals — but the rest was a blur.
I had a memory of Hawk’s voice coming to me from the dark (you’re not alone), Vigo’s too, and flashes of movement all around me: men talking, the grinding of a saw, the night sky winking with stars above me as I was lifted like a feather on a breeze.
After that there wasn’t much, just the memory of bright lights and terse, efficient voices issuing commands, and later, Bram’s voice coming from beyond the ever-present darkness.
Now I thought it might be morning. The last few hours had been quiet, the hospital hushed, the silence broken only by the beeping of machines — mine and others’ — and the muffled footsteps of the doctors and nurses who traversed the corridor outside my room.
But the hospital seemed to be waking up. There were more voices, the sound of wheels rattling past my room, the scent of coffee and food that made my stomach rumble.
And then, footsteps coming closer.
“Good morning.” The woman’s voice was professional but warm. “I’m Doctor Sterling. I did your surgery. How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” I said. “And I… I still can’t see.”
I hated even saying it out loud. It felt like the jinx of all jinxes, like I might will permanent blindness into being even though the nurse had explained that it might be temporary.
“That’s expected,” the doctor said. “I was surprised to feel her weight on the bed next to me, surprised to realize she was sitting on the edge of the bed like an old friend. When she spoke again, her voice was gentler. “You’ve suffered a trauma to the part of your brain that processes visual stimuli.”
It was nice to feel her so close, like she was inside the dark with me even though I knew she wasn’t.
“The nurse said it might be temporary?”
“It’s very possible,” Doctor Sterling said. “We didn’t see any tears or abrasions on the MRI, just swelling as a result of your accident.”
“How long will it take?” I asked. “To get my vision back?”
“Unfortunately there are no guarantees,” she said. “But it could happen tomorrow or in a few weeks. The best thing you can do now is to rest and let your body heal itself. It knows how to do that.”
“It’s… it’s weird not being able to see.” I didn’t know why I made the confession. She was a surgeon, not a psychiatrist.
I felt her hand on mine. “I’m sure it’s really scary. But we’re going to take good care of you, and for what it’s worth, you’ve got a small army in the waiting room.”
“An army?”
“Six giants and a dark-haired woman who seems to be doing her level best to keep them all in line.”
It took my injured brain a minute to do the math: Bram, Poe, and Remy with Maeve.
And the Hawks.
I had a flash of their faces.
Vigo’s impish grin, daring me to do something reckless.
Jagger gazing at me with concern, his eyes pulling me into a warm blue sea.
And Hawk, looking right through me, seeing everything I’d been trying to hide.
“That would be my brother and his… friends.”
It couldn’t be further from the truth, but it required less explanation than calling them enemies.
The mattress shifted as she stood. “They’ve been out there for more than twenty-four hours. If I didn’t know better I’d say it’s some kind of standoff.”
“You’re probably not far off.”
“Did the nurse explain the rest of your injuries?” she asked.
“She did.” I knew them by heart — the fractured arm, the broken ribs, the injured spleen, the cut on my forehead — but my body would have told the story even if the nurse hadn’t.
“Nothing that won’t heal with time,” Doctor Sterling said. “How is your pain?”
“Manageable,” I said.
“Good. Let the nurse know if the current meds stop cutting it. No reason for you to suffer.”
“I will.” I wished I could see her face. She was surprisingly nice for a doctor.
“I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow, but let the nurses know if you need anything.” She was moving away from me now, her footsteps swift and purposeful on the floor.
“Can I see my brother? And his… friends?”
“Family only for now, but I’ll tell the nurses.”
“Thank you.”
I sensed her absence as soon as she left the room.
I was alone again. In the dark.
The monster threatening to tip my tiny boat.