23. Wren
23
WREN
P ain radiates through my head before I even open my eyes, my eyelids sluggish as I try to blink them open. The fluorescent light overhead is dim but still feels harsh as I try to focus on the room around me.
And why does my mouth feel like sandpaper?
“Hey, don’t try to move too much yet, all right?” The voice is quiet and soothing as I roll my head to the side and find Harlan standing next to my bed. He’s holding a Styrofoam cup, a straw pinched between his fingers as he holds it in front of my lips. “You need to go slow. Small sip, okay?”
Obediently, I do as I’m told, the cold snapping me back to reality as it slides down my throat.
The accident.
Someone kept yelling my name.
Or maybe that was a dream.
Passing out in the ambulance.
So much beeping.
I wiggle my toes and suppress a sob as the sheet moves at the bottom of the bed. My left arm is in a cast, and everything hurts.
Tears streaming down my face, I look at Harlan, unable to ask any of the questions in my mind. Setting the cup down, he grabs a tissue, and while holding my uninjured hand, he wipes the tears from my face with the other.
“Everyone is here somewhere. Reid went to the cafeteria to grab coffees. You’ve been out for almost two days and we’ve been taking turns.” He smiles softly. “Well, almost everyone has taken turns.” He nods toward the corner of the room where Merrick is passed out in a hospital chair, his big frame barely contained by it. “He hasn’t left.”
“I thought…” I whisper as I squeeze his hand, my mouth unable to form the words.
“Sometimes,” he says slowly, “guys like us need a swift kick in the ass.” Tilting his head from side to side, he adds, “You could have found a less dramatic way to help him get there though.”
“Thanks.” I grin and he returns it, leaning forward to kiss my forehead.
“Reid is gonna be pissed you woke up when he’s not here.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to go tell the nurses you’re awake, but I’ll kick his chair on the way out—give you guys a couple of minutes before all hell breaks loose.”
“Thank you for being here,” I say, swallowing hard, “and for being the only one who wouldn’t react like a crazy person. You’re my favorite family hostage.”
He snorts softly, then squeezes my hand before getting up. “It’s not always a hardship.”
Walking toward the door, he gently shakes Merrick awake, the man practically jolting from the seat as his gaze bounces between us before focusing on me.
“Wren.” Merrick’s voice is a pained rasp as he rounds the bed and drops to his knees beside me. His fingers encircle my hand as his eyelids flutter closed. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes are bloodshot when they meet mine, dark circles and a couple days of stubble present on his handsome face.
“It was an accident.”
“I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should have?—”
“I’m gonna storm out again,” I say, trying to infuse some levity into the space between us. “Are you going to be around to see it?”
“Yes,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“What about Colorado?”
“He knew I wasn’t going, and the things he said… I’m so fucking sorry. I told him I’d buy out Mountain Side and resign. I just want you. I love you, Wren, and I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you, baby. I just need the chance.”
I open my mouth to respond as three people in scrubs walk into the room. “Welcome back, Miss Sterling. How are you feeling?”
“Everything hurts and I’m hungry.”
“Well, we can definitely help with both of those,” one of them says brightly, her warm smile putting me at ease. “Mr. Ellis, why don’t you go and take a walk, stretch your legs, while we get your girlfriend more comfortable?”
“Girlfriend, huh?” I manage as I lift an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Just wait till I make you my wife.”
His gaze is scorching as it rakes over me, and even though I know I’m an absolute disaster, I can’t help the way my body lights up.
He loves me.
“Merrick, I?—”
Giving me a single shake of his head, he meets my gaze. “Later.”
When he’s gone, the nurse grins. “For what it’s worth, he hasn’t left your side.”
Harlan had told me as much. Swallowing hard, I ask, “How’s the other driver?”
Pressing her lips into a thin line, she checks the monitor. “He’s all right. Texting while driving way the hell too fast.” She glances at me. “The officer’s words, not mine.”
It’s so much to process, and the lights seemingly brighten, making me yawn and then wince. “I’m so tired.”
“Rest now, sweetheart. Everything will be just fine.”