Chapter 92
Hunter
The memory releases its grip, and I’m slammed back into the present.
I lunge before he has so much as a second to react.
My fist connects with his jaw and sends him sprawling onto his arse.
This fucker.
This motherfucking piece of scum.
He killed my mother.
And somehow my mind buried it so deep that I forgot.
Trauma… self-preservation.
Whatever the fuck the reason was, I don’t have the luxury of dwelling on it now.
Not when my Piper is bleeding on the floor.
I descend on him, landing punch after punch before my hands close around his throat, and for a sickening moment I realise I’m doing exactly what he did to my mother all those years ago.
He claws at my arms and fights for air, but he’s no match for me.
Not anymore, and not ever again.
Eventually, his body goes slack and unconsciousness claims him.
I release him and rise to my feet, breathing hard.
A quick death would be a mercy, and mercy is the last thing he deserves.
If I allow myself to think about all the years I spent treating him like a father, respecting him, trusting him, I won’t stop until he’s dead.
But my reckoning with him can wait.
Piper can’t.
So I close the distance between us, kneel beside her and lift her carefully into my arms.
So fucking carefully.
As I carry her towards the car, I keep bringing my ear to her mouth, needing to hear that she’s still breathing.
The reality of what happened keeps slamming into me.
I left her alone with a monster.
And she suffered for it.
I promised that whoever was hurting her would never touch her again.
I failed.
I failed so badly that not only did he touch her again, she’s now fighting for her life.
Every promise I made to protect her means fuck all when she ends up bleeding in my arms.
By the time I reach the car, my jaw hurts from how hard I’m clenching it.
I lower her onto the passenger seat as gently as I can, recline it and fasten her seatbelt before checking her pulse once more.
The moment I feel it beneath my fingers, I close the door, round the car and get behind the wheel.
I slam my foot onto the accelerator and ignore every speed limit, road sign and traffic law in existence.
The fucking hospital feels as though it’s on the other side of the world.
I keep looking towards her, and with every passing minute her breathing seems shallower, more uneven.
I put my foot down harder, shoot through a red light and lean on the horn, forcing another car to slam on the brakes before it enters my lane.
They blast their horn back at me.
I couldn’t give less of a fuck.
Keeping one hand on the wheel, I dial Ido.
The call rings, and bloody rings.
Then he answers, but he doesn’t say a word.
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
I grit my teeth. “Who are you with?”
“Eleanor.”
“I need a favour.”
Silence.
“I need you to go to my father’s estate. Now. I need you to make sure he doesn’t regain consciousness, call for help or disappear before I get there. Take him somewhere secure. A basement, a warehouse. I don’t care. Just keep him there until I deal with him myself.”
“No involving the Bratva?”
“No,” I grit out. “Not yet. He’s part of the Ferrum Syndicate. The others will ask questions. Just do as I say and I’ll deal with everything later.”
The line goes dead.
I immediately call Harry and give him the details, instructing him to meet Ido at the estate and make sure everything goes according to plan.
The entire drive, I keep one hand on the wheel and the fingers of the other pressed on Piper’s pulse point.
I need the constant reminder that it’s still there.
My stomach drops when I look at Piper and find her forehead slick with sweat.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
A few minutes later, I pull up outside a small private hospital.
It’s not the best in the city, but it’s the nearest to the estate, and more importantly, it’s one I’ve used before, and the staff know who I am.
And they know to keep their mouths shut.
Which is exactly what I need right now.
After that, I’ll deal with the clusterfuck waiting for me.
Right now, I just need Piper safe.
Alive.
I push through the hospital doors and several heads turn in my direction at the sight of the unconscious woman in my arms.
“I need a doctor,” I bark.
Nurses rush towards me, and someone appears with a wheeled bed.
“Set her down, sir,” a nurse says.
I do, though every part of me resists it.
The moment she’s no longer in my arms, a fresh wave of panic claws its way through me.
I can’t feel her skin, her pulse, and I can’t reassure myself that she’s still here, breathing.
Several doctors arrive and immediately focus on her.
“Call theatre. I want a surgical team ready now,” one of them says.
The bed starts moving down the corridor and I fall into step beside them, but a nurse quickly moves in front of me.
“Sir, you can’t go beyond this point.”
I look at her, then past her.
The doctors already have Piper inside one of the treatment rooms.
I step around the nurse and walk straight in.
One of the doctors looks up from where they’re attaching monitors and cutting through Piper’s shirt.
“You can’t be in here, sir.”
My eyes move across every person in the room.
“If she dies, you all fucking do.”
A heavy silence follows.
“Sir, I understand you’re worried, but you can’t threa—” someone begins.
“I can,” I interrupt. “And I am.”
Several faces pale.
“If her life is at risk, so is yours.”
“Mr...” one of the nurses says hesitantly.
“Wardgrave.”
She visibly swallows.
“Mr Wardgrave, we’ll do everything in our power to—”
I stop her before she can finish.
“You’ll do everything and more.”
My eyes return to Piper.
Then to the doctors working around her, to the nurses moving from one side of the bed to the other.
Another member of staff attempts to usher me out, and this time, I allow it.
I take a step backwards, and then another.
The moment I’m in the corridor, the door swings shut in my face.
Fuck.
I start pacing.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Every second feels like hours.
I have no idea how much time passes before a nurse approaches from the far end of the corridor.
“Sir, come with me. Let me take a look at those wounds.”
“No.”
“Sir—”
“I said no.”
She flinches.
I drag a hand through my hair before looking down at myself.
My hands are covered in blood, my shirt is stained with it too.
But none of it is mine, and how I wish it were.
Because then Piper wouldn’t be the one lying behind those doors fighting for her life.
I’ve made a mistake of catastrophic proportions.
Several, if I’m being honest.
But I’ll fix it.
I’ll fix every last part of this mess, and when Piper wakes up, I’ll make certain she never has to face any of it alone again.
I don’t deserve her.
But I’m going to have her nonetheless.
I’ve spent years convinced that I’m incapable of love, yet the older I get, the more I suspect the word itself is the problem, because whatever this thing is that I feel for her has long since outgrown something as small and inadequate as love.
I’d give her my next breath if she needed it.
I’d trade places with her without a second thought.
And every time I see her hurt, crying or frightened, it feels as if someone is slowly driving a blade between my ribs.
I want her safe, I want her happy.
I want her mine.
I’ll make mistakes again, I’ll get things wrong, but for her, I’ll try to be better.
There is no version of my future that doesn’t have Piper in it, and I refuse to exist in a world where she’s gone.
So she has to be okay.
She has to be.
I pace the corridor until I think I might wear a hole through the bloody floor.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I pull it out and find a message from Ido.
A thumbs up.
Typical.
A second message follows moments later.
A set of coordinates.
Ido: Target secured.
Good.
One problem contained, and a thousand more waiting for me.
I drop into a chair and stare at the clock on the wall.
Minutes crawl by.
Then hours.
And still no one comes.
Three hours.
Four.
And why the fuck is it taking so long?
What are they doing to her in there?
Four and a half hours later, the door finally opens and a man in scrubs steps into the corridor.
I’m on my feet before he reaches me.
“Mr Wardgrave,” he says, glancing around. “Her family...”
“You’re looking at it.”
The doctor hesitates.
“Sir, I—”
“Speak.”
“Miss Piper is stable. She suffered internal bleeding and required emergency surgery. She also sustained a punctured lung, which required us to place a chest drain and intubate her during treatment. In addition, she has four broken ribs, two cracked ribs, and a severe concussion. Given the extent of her injuries, she’s extremely fortunate there appears to be no swelling on the brain, but we’ll continue monitoring her closely. ”
The doctor keeps talking.
I know he does.
I can see his lips moving.
“There was a complication during surgery. Miss Piper went into cardiac arrest, but we were able to resuscitate her successfully.”
The rest disappears beneath the roaring in my ears.
Cardiac arrest.
Cardiac arrest.
Cardiac arrest.
No.
Fuck no.
Why can’t I breathe?
I rip open another button on my shirt.
“Sir? Sir, do you hear me?”
“Continue.”
“As I was saying, we managed to resuscitate her and stabilise her. She also required a blood transfusion due to the amount of blood she lost.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
The doctor hesitates.
“It’s too early to say. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are critical. Miss Piper remains in intensive care, and given the severity of her injuries and the cardiac arrest, we’re keeping her heavily sedated for now.”
My stomach drops.
“How long?”
“We don’t know yet. It could be days. Potentially longer. Right now our priority is giving her body the best chance to recover.”
I can’t process the damage he’s done to her body. It’s a wonder I’m still standing and not on my fucking knees, begging whatever God might be listening to spare her.
And it takes everything I have not to walk out of this hospital, find that piece of shit, and inflict every ounce of pain he’s inflicted on her.
But I need to be here with her.
Because if there is a time Piper needs me, it’s now, and there isn’t a chance in hell I’m leaving her side.
“Can I see her?”
The doctor looks as if he’s about to refuse.
Then his eyes meet mine and he appears to reconsider.
“Yes, but you’ll need to follow the ICU protocols.”
I nod.
A few minutes later, after being handed protective clothing, shown how to sanitise my hands and told what I can and can’t touch, I find myself standing in the doorway of her room.
And fuck.
Nothing could have prepared me for this.
Piper lies motionless in the hospital bed, so pale and frighteningly small that if it weren’t for the steady rhythm of the monitors beside her, I wouldn’t know she was still here.
A ventilator breathes for her, the tube disappearing past her lips, while wires and monitoring leads trail from her chest and hands, each machine around her producing its own relentless series of beeps and numbers.
The sight punches the air from my lungs.
I just stand there and stare.
My feet eventually remember how to move, and I somehow manage to reach her bedside.
A crushing pain takes hold of my chest, so fierce that even breathing hurts, and for the first time, I understand exactly what helplessness is.
I pull the chair closer and reach for her hand, though it takes me a moment to navigate around the wires and monitors attached to her before I can finally lace my fingers through hers.
Lifting her hand carefully, I press a kiss to her knuckles and keep hold of her as I sit beside the bed.
The hours blur into days.
I stay by her side.
I talk to her about everything and nothing, I beg her to come back to me.
Because it feels as if my heart has been ripped from my chest, and the only person capable of giving any part of it back is her.
“I don’t need anything else in this life,” I murmur, tightening my hold on her hand. “I just need you.”