Chapter 5 Carver
The room is quiet now. Not silent—hospitals are never silent—but close enough that I can hear the soft rhythm of her breathing over the distant beeps of machines and muted footsteps in the hallway.
I lean back in the chair beside her bed with my elbows resting on the armrests. I should probably get up and move around, but I don’t. I can’t seem to take my eyes off Raven.
She sleeps like she’s finally surrendered to it, like whatever chased her through that nightmare has loosened its grip. A few minutes ago, she was thrashing, fighting something I couldn’t see, her voice tight with fear. The sound of her whimper is still stuck in my chest.
Now she’s at peace. I hope her nightmares stay away.
Her long black hair fans out across the pillow, dark and silky, framing a face that doesn’t belong in a place like this.
Too soft. Too striking. Even in the dim light, I can see the warm glow of her skin—caramel tones that catch what little light slips through the blinds.
She has the face that makes you look twice, before looking again.
Like I’ve been doing since I first walked into the room. She’s magnificent. My gaze drifts over her features—the curve of her cheek, the shape of her lips, the faint crease between her brows that hasn’t quite smoothed out even in sleep. Like part of her is still fighting.
My jaw tightens at the thought. I don’t like that she’s not at peace, even in her dreams. Someone put that fear in her.
She looked so helpless and lost when she woke up.
Her eyes were wide with fear as she desperately tried to calm her breathing.
Those eyes searched the room for her attacker before landing on me. Those eyes pierced something inside me.
Green. Not just green—something brighter. Almost glowing. The kind of color that shouldn’t exist, but does. And when she looked at me… there was so much fear in them it hit harder than anything else in that moment.
I shift forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, lowering my voice even though she can’t hear me.
“You’re okay,” I murmur, more for me than her. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, but her breathing deepens.
Good.
I watch her for another long moment, memorizing the calm version of her, committing it to memory like it’s something I might need later. Because I know—whoever caused that nightmare is still out there and still a danger to her.
And something inside me… something I don’t question… already knows one thing for sure.
I’m not letting him touch her again.
By the time the sun shines through the blinds, I’ve managed about two hours of sleep. It’s not much, but it will suffice. Besides, it was worth it. When I exit the restroom, I see Raven stir.
Her fingers twitch against the blanket as her breathing changes. When her eyes open, the brilliant green against her warm skin has me freezing in my tracks. She looks ethereal in the morning light, like a figment only my imagination could conjure.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
She swallows as she glances around the room, as if trying to remember where she is. I see the hint of panic flash over her features before they shift into pain as she reaches for her throat.
“Sore?” I ask.
She grimaces before nodding. “I feel like I’ve swallowed glass.”
“Yeah, it will feel like that for a few days. But it will lessen. Do you want me to get you something? Water? Tea?”
“Water,” she croaks.
I fill her water glass and hold the straw up for her to drink. She takes several sips before lying back against her pillows.
“What time is it?” she asks.
“Almost eight. Tally said she’d be by at nine to check on you. She’ll probably spring you this morning. Are you hungry? I can see about getting you breakfast.”
Before she can respond, there is a knock at the door, and the person on the other side pushes it open. A hospital worker steps in carrying a tray. On it is a mug with a small carafe, a covered plate, and silverware.
“Good morning. Dr. Chambers ordered this breakfast for you,” she says, placing the tray on the table that I swung into place.
She lifts the lid before backing away. “There’s hot water and tea bags.
She wanted you to have only soft food, so there are scrambled eggs and hash browns. I can get you oatmeal if you prefer.”
“This looks good. Thank you,” Raven says, offering a soft smile.
Once she leaves, I sit back down and watch Raven take a tentative bite of eggs. She chews before swallowing. She flinches, but spoons in another mouthful.
I sit quietly until she eats half her breakfast, before washing it down with a cup of tea spiked with honey.
“Do you remember anything more about what happened to you?” I ask her.
She immediately shakes her head.
“You mumbled the name Tony in your sleep. Was that who hurt you?”
Raven freezes with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Tony? Huh. I don’t remember that name.”
She’s lying. I don’t know how I know, but I do.
“Right,” I say. Rather than push her, I sit back and let her finish eating. I study her while she casts uneasy glances in my direction. She knows I don’t believe her. I’m hoping my silence gets her talking, but I soon realize that she’s not going to break so easily.
Before I can press her again, the door opens to allow Tally and Shield entry.
Raven shifts in the bed, pushing herself up a little straighter. I watch her closely. There’s a slight wince she tries to hide, but it doesn’t get past me.
“How are we feeling?” Tally asks, stepping closer to the bed, already reaching for the chart.
“I’m fine,” Raven says quickly. Too quickly. “My throat is just a little sore.”
My jaw tightens, but I keep my mouth shut.
Tally’s gaze flicks to Raven’s neck, then back to her face. She doesn’t call her out, but I can tell she doesn’t fully buy it either.
“That’s to be expected,” she says, her tone calm, clinical. “You’ve got bruising developing. You’ll want to keep ice on it—twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off—as much as you can tolerate. It’ll help reduce swelling.”
Raven nods like a good patient.
“And stick to soft foods for a few days,” Tally continues. “Nothing that’ll irritate your throat further. Soups, yogurt, things like that.”
“I can do that.”
Tally makes a note on the chart, then steps back slightly.
That’s when Shield moves in.
Everything about him shifts—subtle, but I know the signs. He’s not here as a brother. He’s here to work.
“Ms. Mueller, we didn’t have a chance to meet yesterday. I’m Detective Kade Black,” he says, voice even, measured. “I need to ask you a few questions about what happened.”
Raven’s shoulders stiffen just a fraction. If I wasn’t watching her like I am, I might miss it.
“Okay,” she says.
He studies her for a second, like he’s deciding how hard to push.
“Do you remember anything about the incident? Anyone you might have encountered in the parking lot?”
Raven shakes her head. “No. One minute I was walking, and then…” She trails off, brows pulling together like she’s trying to force something to come back. “Nothing.”
I don’t believe her.
But damn if she doesn’t make it sound convincing.
Shield doesn’t react right away. He just watches her, eyes sharp, weighing every word.
“We searched the parking lot,” he says finally. “We didn’t find much, but we did find this.”
He pulls out a broken taser inside an evidence bag, holding it up where she can see it.
My attention snaps to her.
Raven’s gaze follows, and for just a split second, something flickers in her eyes. It’s gone so fast I almost think I imagined it.
“Do you recognize it?” Shield asks.
She shakes her head immediately. “No. I’ve never seen that before.”
Silence stretches.
Then Tally cuts in, her tone firm. “There were no signs that she was tased,” she says, crossing her arms lightly. “No burns or muscle trauma.”
Shield glances at her, then back at Raven.
“Could’ve belonged to someone else in the area,” Raven adds, her voice steady now. “Maybe it’s unrelated.”
Shield doesn’t look convinced.
Neither am I.
But he doesn’t push. Not here. Not now.
“Alright,” he says after a moment. “If you remember anything, anything at all, you call me.” He pulls a card from his pocket and sets it on the tray beside her bed. “Day or night.”
“I will.”
Tally takes back control.
“I’ll get your discharge papers started,” she says, flipping a page on the chart. “You should be able to go home shortly.”
Raven nods, relief flashing across her face.
Tally’s eyes move between us. “Do you have someone to take you home?”
“I can take her,” I say immediately.
The words are out before I think about them.
Raven looks at me, surprise flickering in those green eyes. Not fear. Not resistance. Just… something softer.
“Actually—”
The door swings open again.
Raven’s mother and father enter.
“How are you feeling?” Sade asks her daughter. “Were you able to get any sleep?”
“I slept,” she says, offering her mother and father a soft smile. “Although, I’ll sleep much better in my own bed. Dr. Chambers is springing me.”
Tally gives a small nod. “She’s stable. She needs rest and to follow the care instructions I mentioned.”
“We’ll take her home,” Sade says immediately, not even looking away from Raven.
Of course they will.
I feel it then—that pull to stay, to make sure she’s okay, to see this through. It sits heavy in my chest, unwanted but not going anywhere.
Raven glances at me again. There’s a flicker of something there—gratitude, maybe an apology.
I give her a short nod.
“Looks like you’re covered,” I say.
It comes out rougher than I intended.
I step back, giving them space, even though every instinct I have is telling me to do the opposite.
“Thank you for watching over my daughter,” Karl says, shaking my hand. “She’s precious to us.”
“No problem. It was my pleasure,” I assure him before locking eyes with Raven. “Take it easy.”
Those green eyes hold mine for a beat longer than necessary.
Then I turn and walk out before I can change my mind.