Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
C lara and I have spent the last two hours sitting in a little blue room at the Ravenshoe Private Hospital waiting for an update on Ryan’s condition. Other than the nurse who came in to complete a set of observations on Clara, the room has been void of any other visitors.
Although Clara is clearly in shock, she refused to take the sedative offered by the nurse. Understandably, she wants to remain lucid until we receive an update on Ryan. Charity received four stitches to the welt on her head. With a prescription for a heavy sedative and pain medication, Diesel and Johnny took her home. Although she was adamant she was fine, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone.
Plain-clothed detectives and police officers have lined the corridor throughout the past two hours, but surprisingly, none have requested statements from Clara or me. Their priorities also remain focused on Ryan and not police protocol.
When another shiver racks through Clara’s body, I sling my arm around her shoulders and pull her into my lap .
Twenty minutes later, our heads lift in sync when a creak of a door sounds through the quiet passing between us. The beat of my heart turns crazy when a small Asian doctor with a crisp white coat enters the room. Her inky black hair is pulled off her face in a twisted design, and her lovely green eyes are issuing silent sympathies.
I stand from my chair, taking Clara with me. We stare at the doctor, blinking and muted, but I release a deep sigh when she says, “He’s okay.” Clara squeezes my hand tightly while the doctor continues talking, “He was fortunate he had you both there. The amount of blood he was losing would have seen him hemorrhaging within minutes. By applying pressure to the wound and keeping his heart pumping, you saved his life.” Her eyes drift between Clara and me. “Both of you. He has a long way to go, but he’s doing remarkably well.”
The doctor accepts my offer of a handshake before she runs her tiny hand down Clara’s forearm. The instant she steps back into the corridor, Clara collapses to the floor. Tears roll down her cheeks as a devastating sob tears from her throat. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault,” she cries through a barrage of hiccups.
After gathering her in my arms, I stride to the chair I’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. Carefully, I pull her back and peer into her red-rimmed eyes. “This is not your fault.”
“I should have taken off my jewelry. I should have listened to you.”
“You shouldn’t have had to listen to me. You should be able to wear anything you want. This is not your fault.”
“But—”
“No, Princess. No buts. Damon pulled the trigger. Damon shot his brother. You did nothing wrong.” I cup her cheeks in my hands and run my thumbs under her eyes, catching her tears. “This is not your fault. ”
She looks like she wants to push the issue further, but thankfully, she leaves it as is, nuzzling into the crook of my neck.
I don’t know how long we stay huddled together, but it is long enough that the watermarks Clara’s tears created on my shirt have dried, and she has fallen asleep nestled into my chest. Even though my ass is dead from the rock-hard chair, I refuse to move. Not just because I don’t want to wake her but because comforting her is helping heal some of the cracks that chipped my heart tonight. Her touch soothes me in a way no words can.
My eyes lift from Clara when the main door of the waiting room swings open. I’m not surprised but more apprehensive when Cormack hesitantly enters the room. His eyes are restless, and his composure is distraught. The crisp dark blue suit he was wearing earlier today is disheveled, and his hair is messy like he has been running his fingers through it regularly.
The smell of expensive cologne filters through my nose when he crouches down in front of me. Sensing another presence in the room, Clara’s head pops off my chest. She inhales a quick, jagged breath as her eyes glance at her brother’s remorse-filled gaze.
Launching out of my lap, she wraps her arms around Cormack’s neck. Cormack draws her in close before standing from his squatted position. He mutters into her ear, but he’s so quiet, I can’t hear a word spilling from his lips.
I give them a few moments of privacy by stepping into the corridor. Warmth spreads across my chest when I discover the number of off-duty police officers lining the walls of the ICU hallway. It is a sea of law enforcement officers for as far as my eyes can see.
I shouldn’t have expected any different. Ryan is a much-loved member of the entire Ravenshoe community, let alone his law enforcement colleagues.
Ten minutes later, my neck cranks to the side when the visiting room door opens, and Cormack strides through. Spotting me standing to the side, he raises his index finger to a gentleman wearing a three-piece suit standing at the end of the corridor. When the dark-haired man curtly nods, Cormack spans the distance between us.
“Thank you for taking care of Clara,” he says, holding his hand out in offering. “I’ll take it from here.”
I keep my hands fisted at my side. It isn’t that I’m ungrateful for his praise, but he said it like I was paid to take care of Clara instead of doing it of my own free will.
“I didn’t take care of Clara because she’s a member of my crew. I took care of her because I wanted to.” My angry sneer gains us the attention of a handful of officers in the hallway.
“I understand,” Cormack replies, gently nodding. “But she needs more care than you can give her right now. She’s in shock. She needs to see a doctor, take a shower, and eat a warm meal.”
“I can give her that. You don’t need to step in.”
Cormack’s icy-blue eyes spear into mine. “Can you take care of Clara and Ryan at the same time?”
A dash of indecisiveness tinges my mind.
“That’s what I thought,” Cormack replies, reading my internal dialogue. “If you care for Clara like you say you do, you will encourage her to come with me. A hospital waiting room isn’t the best place for her to be in her condition.”
While scraping my hand along the scruff on my jaw, I turn my eyes to Clara. She’s sitting on the hard plastic chairs that line the walls of the waiting room. Her posture is slumped, her face is gaunt, and she looks both physically and mentally exhausted.
I swallow the bile sitting at the back of my throat before muttering, “If I step back, will you call a truce with Clara? Stop this stupid lesson you were supposed to be teaching her?” I try to keep my tone neutral, but my words still come out in a vicious snarl.
Cormack’s lips tug into an uneasy smirk before he nods. “Yes. You have my word.”
“Your word don’t mean shit to me.” I take a step closer to him. “The fact you sat back and watched all the crap Clara went through the past four months and did nothing doesn’t even make you a man in my eyes. Let alone a man of his word.”
“Everything I did, I did for Clara. You may think it was cruel and unwarranted, but you should be thanking me. The Clara you see in there…” he points to his sister’s slumped figure sitting in the waiting room, “… isn’t the same Clara she was six months ago. My tactics may have been harsh, but they were necessary.”
I hate to admit this, but part of what he’s saying is true. Not the part about Clara not being the same Clara she was six months ago. To me, she will always be the same Clara. She just needed to be shown she deserves to be loved. My agreement is the part I should be thanking him for. If he hadn’t forced Clara out of her comfort zone, she would have never walked back into my life.
For that, I will forever be in his debt.
Ignoring the twisting of my heart, I say, “Give me a few minutes to talk to her.”
Not waiting for Cormack to reply, I walk into the waiting room. Clara’s downcast head lifts from staring at the floor when the door gives out a slight creak.
“Is Ryan okay?” she asks, wrongly intuiting the forlorn look on my face as concern for Ryan. The tightness in her shoulders slackens when I nod.
“Do you have your purse with you?”
She nods while slipping her hand into the front pocket of her blood-stained jeans to produce her all-in-one cell phone purse. I’ve been so embroiled in everything happening, I didn’t even notice we’re both wearing blood-stained clothes. That just proves what Cormack said is true. I can barely take care of myself right now, let alone Clara.
“Do you want me to have your luggage dropped off, or will someone from Cormack’s staff come and collect it?”
Clara’s brows stitch as she stares at me, shocked and dazed.
“Cormack is going to take you home,” I advise her baffled expression.
“To your apartment?” she queries, her voice high and laced with worry.
I shake my head. “He’s taking you home, Princess. To the side of Ravenshoe where you belong.”
“I thought… I thought you said I was staying with you until all this blew over?”
Her confusion intensifies when I shake my head. “I said you were staying with me until the men who mugged you were held accountable. That has happened, so there’s no reason for you to stay with me anymore.” My words come out strangled since I had to fight my mouth to relinquish them.
“You don’t want me to stay with you?” Although she could mean staying with me at the hospital, her eyes aren’t relaying that.
“No. I don’t.” Pain hits the middle of my chest the instant the words seep from my lips.
Clara glares into my eyes, searching for any untruth in them. The only reason she fails to detect any is because deep down, I knew this day would eventually come, I just never wanted to believe it. But by manning up and stepping away from the plate I’ve been guarding the past four months, Clara’s silver spoon will find its way back into her mouth, and she won’t have to keep fighting the struggle she’s been battling the past four months.
I care enough about her that I’m willing to give her up to ensure she’s safe and taken care of .
Clara’s lips twitch, dying to speak, but not a word spills from her mouth. Her confused eyes dart to the door when it flings open and Cormack steps into the room.
Releasing a deep breath, she turns her eyes back to me. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
It kills me, but I nod.
She gives it her best fight to hold in her hurt, but a rogue tear rolls down her cheek before she mutters, “Okay. Goodbye, Brax,” before making a beeline for the door, exiting without a backward glance.