Chapter 20Claire
20
Claire
T he hospital waiting room buzzes with nervous energy as I pace back and forth. The antiseptic smell burns my nostrils, a constant reminder of where we are and why. My stomach churns with worry for Jay.
The elevator dings, and I whip around to see my parents rushing toward us. Mom’s face is pale, her eyes wide with panic. Dad’s jaw is set in a hard line, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Claire,” Mom cries, enveloping me in a tight hug. “What happened? Is Jay okay?”
I pull back, struggling to find the right words. “He’s in surgery. We don’t know much yet.”
Dad’s gaze locks onto Valerian, who stands a few feet away. His eyes narrow dangerously. “You. This is your fault, isn’t it?”
Valerian steps forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Mr. Bennett, I understand you’re upset?—”
“Upset?” Dad’s voice rises. “My son is in surgery because of you and your criminal activities.”
“Dad, please,” I interject, but he ignores me.
“I should have known better than to trust you with my daughter,” Dad continues, advancing on Valerian. “You’ve brought nothing but trouble to our family.”
Valerian’s face remains impassive. “I assure you, sir, I had nothing to do with?—”
Dad’s fist flies out, aiming for his jaw. In a blur of motion, he sidesteps the punch, catching Dad’s arm and holding him steady. Sergei and Ivan rush forward, but Valerian waves them off.
“Let me go.” Dad struggles against Valerian’s grip.
“Not until you calm down,” he says firmly. “I won’t let you hurt yourself or anyone else.”
Mom gasps. “Robert, stop it. This isn’t helping Jay.”
Dad’s shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him. Valerian releases his hold, and Dad stumbles back, rubbing his wrist.
“Now,” Valerian says, his voice low and controlled, “If you’ll listen, I can explain what’s really going on.”
I watch as Valerian outlines the situation with the Petrov Syndicate, explaining how they had tried to recruit Jay before his arrest. My parents’ faces grow more horrified with each revelation.
“They could still want something from him, viewing him as an investment that still hasn’t yielded returns. Or maybe they’re targeting Jay because of me,” he admits, his gaze flicking to mine, “Because hurting him hurts Claire, and that in turn...”
He trails off, but the implication is clear. Mom’s eyes widen as she looks between Valerian and me. “Oh.” She flinches. “Oh, I see.”
Dad seems oblivious to the subtext, his brow wrinkled with confusion. “I don’t understand. Why would hurting Claire matter to you?”
Valerian’s jaw tightens. “That’s not important right now. What matters is that I have resources, extensive resources, and I will use every one of them to protect your family. Even if it means operating outside the law.”
Dad’s eyes narrow. “You’d break the law for us?”
“For Claire,” he says simply, and my heart misses a beat. “And by extension, for all of you.”
The tension in Dad’s shoulders eases slightly. “I appreciate that, but I still don’t trust you.”
“You don’t have to trust me. Just know that I’m on your side in this.”
We lapse into an uneasy silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I sink into an uncomfortable plastic chair, my legs suddenly weak. Mom sits beside me, taking my hand in hers.
“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” she asks softly.
I force a smile. “I’m fine, Mom. Just worried about Jay.”
She squeezes my hand. “We all are, but he’s strong. He’ll pull through this.”
The minutes crawl by like hours. I watch the second hand on the wall clock tick endlessly, each movement a reminder of how long Jay has been in surgery. Valerian paces near the windows, his phone pressed to his ear as he speaks in hushed tones. Dad sits rigidly in a chair across from us, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Finally, a doctor in blue scrubs approaches. We all stand, forming a tight circle around him.
“Family of Jay Bennett?” he asks, and we nod. “I’m Dr. Patel. Jay is out of surgery and stable. One of his ribs punctured his lung, which is why we needed to operate. He’s being moved to the ICU for close observation.”
A collective sigh of relief ripples through our group. “Can we see him?” Mom asks eagerly.
Dr. Patel nods. “Two visitors at a time, for five minutes each. Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, you can go first. Then you, miss,” he says, gesturing to me.
As my parents follow Dr. Patel down the hall, I turn to Valerian. His face is a mask of calm, but I can see the tension in his shoulders.
“Thank you for being here and everything you’re doing. And for not punching my dad when he tried to punch you.”
Valerian’s eyes soften as they meet mine. “Of course. I told you, Claire, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and your family safe.”
I nod, unable to find the words to express the emotions swirling inside me. Gratitude, fear, and something else I’m not ready to name.
We wait in silence until my parents return, their faces a mix of relief and worry. Mom’s eyes are red-rimmed, and Dad’s hand trembles slightly as he places it on my shoulder.
“He’s somewhat awake,” says Mom. “Groggy, but awake. Go see him, sweetie.”
Valerian and I make our way down the sterile hallway. We reach Jay’s room, and I pause at the doorway, my hand hovering over the handle.
Valerian’s warm palm settles on my lower back. “I’m right here with you, Claire.”
I nod, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door. The sight that greets me makes my stomach lurch. Jay lies motionless in the hospital bed, his skin ashen against the white sheets. An IV snakes from his arm, and the steady beep of the heart monitor fills the room. What truly breaks my heart is the handcuff securing his wrist to the bed rail and the stoic correctional officer in his navy Curran-Fromhold uniform standing guard by the window.
“Oh, Jay,” I whisper, moving to his bedside. His eyelids flutter open at the sound of my voice, unfocused and glassy.
“Claire?” His voice cracks. “That you?”
I take his free hand, careful not to disturb the IV. “It’s me, big brother. How are you feeling?”
Jay’s lips twitch in what might be an attempt at a smile. “Like I got hit by a truck. Twice.”
For the first time, I see my brother for what he truly is—a scared boy finally facing consequences of his choices. The bravado and charm that usually mask his insecurities are stripped away, leaving only vulnerability in their wake.
“What happened?” I lean in closer, lowering my voice. “Who did this to you?”
His brow furrows as if trying to piece together a complicated puzzle. “I... I don’t...” He trails off, his lids drifting shut.
Valerian steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Let me try.” He moves to the other side of the bed, speaking to Jay in a low, firm voice. “Jay, it’s Valerian Rostova. I need you to focus. Who attacked you?”
Jay’s eyes snap open, fear flashing across his face before it’s replaced by confusion. “Valerian? I... I can’t remember. Everything’s fuzzy.”
Valerian studies him for a moment before turning to me. “He’s too weak right now, Claire. The pain medication is making it difficult for him to focus. We’ll try again when he’s stronger.”
I nod, disappointment and worry warring inside me. “Jay, you need to rest and get better, okay? I want you to come home someday.”
Jay’s fingers tighten around mine. “You mean that? After everything I’ve done?”
The conflicting emotions I’ve been carrying—anger, fear, love, and frustration—all surge to the surface. “Of course, I mean it. You’re my brother, Jay. I love you, even when you make monumentally stupid decisions.”
A ghost of his usual smirk appears. “Love you too, sis.”
As we leave his room, my parents are still in the waiting area. Mom’s pacing, wringing her hands, while Dad sits rigidly in an uncomfortable-looking chair. They both look up as we approach. Dad stands, his face a mask of concern. “Did he say anything about what happened? He couldn’t tell us a thing.”
I shake my head. “He’s too out of it right now. We’ll try again when he’s stronger.”
Mom reaches out, squeezing my hand. “You look exhausted, sweetheart. Why don’t you go home and rest? We’ll stay here with Jay.”
“Are you sure?” I glance between them, torn between wanting to stay and the bone-deep weariness settling over me.
Dad nods. “We’ve got this, Claire. You’ve done enough.”
Valerian, who has been a silent presence at my side, speaks up. “Let’s get you home.”
The words hang in the air for a moment. Mom’s eyes widen slightly as she looks between Valerian and me, a flicker of worry crossing her face. Maybe she’s just realized I’m living with him now and is probably hurt I didn’t tell her before. Dad’s expression remains impassive, but I notice the tightening of his jaw.
I hug them both tightly, suddenly desperate to reassure them. “I’m fine, really. I’m safe, and I’m doing okay at Valerian’s.”
The urge to tell them everything—about the pregnancy, about my growing feelings for Valerian, and even the possible threat from Matvey Petrov—gnaws at me, but I push it down. They have enough to worry about with Jay. I can shoulder this burden a little longer.
As Valerian guides me toward the elevator, I catch a glimpse of my mother’s concerned face watching us go. Everything I’m not telling them settles heavily, and I lean into Valerian’s solid presence beside me.
The elevator doors close, shutting out the antiseptic smell and the worried faces of my parents. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the events of the day catch up with me all at once.
He wraps an arm around my waist, steadying me. “You did well in there. Your brother is lucky to have you.”
I look up at him, struck by the genuine warmth in his eyes. “Th…thanks.”
As we step out of the hospital and into the cold night air, I realize that despite the danger, the uncertainty, and the secrets, I’m glad to have Valerian in my life. That realization terrifies me almost as much as it thrills me. I’m falling in love with him, and that’s maybe the stupidest thing I can do, but it’s impossible to stop now.