Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Star
The doctor had kind eyes and the unfortunate habit of delivering bad news like it was a compliment.
He stood at the foot of my bed with his clipboard tucked under his arm, white coat crisp, posture calm, like he wasn’t about to explain the limitations of my own body to me.
“How are we feeling today, Star?”
I stared at him. “Like I won a bar fight with a concrete wall.”
My mom winced. “She’s in pain.”
“I’m functional,” I corrected. “Which feels important to clarify.”
The doctor smiled faintly, already amused. “Your scans are stable. That’s the good news.”
Here it comes.
“The bruising is severe, and you sustained a concussion. You’re healing, but slowly. That means rest, limited activity, and supervision.”
My jaw tightened. “Define supervision.”
“Someone with you,” he said evenly. “At all times, for at least the first week after discharge.”
My mom nodded immediately. Too immediately.
“I can take time off—”
“No,” I said, sharper than intended. “You’ve already taken a week. You can’t just keep dropping everything.”
The doctor lifted a hand. “This doesn’t need to be decided right now.”
“Yes, it does,” I said. “Because people keep deciding things for me.”
Silence settled.
My mom looked torn. “Star-”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I stopped being part of my own life.”
The doctor watched us for a moment longer, then nodded. “We’ll revisit this tomorrow. For now, rest.”
He left without another word.
The room felt smaller once the door shut.
My mom sat down heavily. “You don’t have to fight everything.”
“I’m not fighting,” I said. “I’m drawing lines.”
She reached for my hand, squeezing gently. “You scared me.”
“I know,” I whispered.
A knock sounded at the door.
It opened before either of us answered.
Cole stepped inside.
He didn’t look surprised to see me awake. Just alert, like he’d already taken inventory of the room before his boots crossed the threshold.
“Hey,” he said.
My heart did something deeply inconvenient and tripped over itself. “Hey,” I replied.
My mom stood. “I’m grabbing coffee. Don’t let her bully you.”
“I heard that,” I said.
She smiled anyway and slipped out, leaving the door cracked behind her.
Cole stayed where he was near the door, not crowding and not retreating.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like everyone wants to bubble-wrap me.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “They’re worried.”
“So are you.”
He didn’t deny it. “Yeah.”
The honesty startled me.
“They still haven’t found them,” I said.
“No,” he admitted. “But we’re close.”
We.
That word sat heavier than it should have.
I shifted, and pain flared sharp enough to steal my breath.
Cole moved instantly.
Not fast. Not frantic.
Just there.
“Easy,” he said, voice low.
I tried to wave it off and failed. My hand shook, useless. “I’m fine,” I lied.
He hesitated. Then he reached out. Not to pull me close or hover, just to steady my forearm while I adjusted the pillow behind my back.
His hand was warm. Solid.
The contact was brief.
My breath caught anyway.
He pulled back immediately, his jaw tight, as his eyes flicked to my face like he was checking for damage he hadn’t meant to cause.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, and this time, it was true.
The room felt different after that. Charged. Aware.
“You don’t have to be here,” I said. “I’m safe in the hospital.”
He scoffed. “And you should have been safe in the Social Club parking lot, babe. If I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that unless I’m there, you’re not safe.”
“Do I get any say in this?” I asked.
“In how you are going to stay safe? I think you and I have the same end goal of staying safe, and I know how to make it happen,” he said.
I folded my arms over my chest and sighed. I did want to be safe, but I also wanted to be in the loop with everything. “I don’t like being handled. I don’t like feeling like I’m a burden to you and the club.”
He nodded. “Fair.”
“But,” I added, “I also don’t like pretending I’m invincible.”
That got his full attention.
I met his gaze. “So if you’re going to help keep me safe… we do it my way.”
His brow lifted slightly. “Which is?”
“You tell me what you know. You don’t decide things behind my back. I get how you bikers are, but at the end of the day, this is my life.”
His eyes darkened, not with heat, but with respect. “Deal,” he said.
I exhaled slowly. “Good.”
We stood there a moment longer, neither of us moving away.
“Cole?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m… tired.” I had a lot more I could have said, but right now sleep felt like the safer option.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t soften. “Then rest, babe,” he said. “I’ll stick around for a while.”
I drifted off to sleep with Cole posted up by the door, and as much as I wanted to tell myself sleep came easy because I was tired, I knew it was because Cole was there.