Chapter 8 Kieran #2
But I see it. The fatigue in her shoulders. The quiet gasps when she thinks no one hears. She tries to hide it, but she forgets, I know her now.
It’s been twelve days.
Twelve days since I found her broken in that stairwell.
Twelve days of fighting back the dark every time I close my eyes.
But today, she’s sitting up in bed when I walk in from grabbing her tea. Her hair’s pulled into a messy bun, the bruise along her cheekbone has faded to an odd green, and she’s got that spark in her eyes again.
“Miss me?” she says, tilting her head.
“Every second,” I mutter, and it’s the truth. I sit next to her and I miss her. I want to be near her every second. I want her in my veins.
Before I can sit down, the door opens and her doctor walks in, flipping through her chart with a pleased look on his face.
“Miss Ravencroft,” he says, nodding. “You’re healing remarkably fast. Blood pressure has stabilized, walking distance is up, oxygen saturation looks good, and, best of all, you’re no longer on constant monitoring. You, my dear, are my most stubborn patient.”
Deirdre smirks. “I take that as a compliment.”
He chuckles and glances at me before continuing.
“We’d like to discharge you tomorrow if your vitals hold.
You’ll need to continue your therapy at home.
No overexertion. Ribs need time to finish healing.
But as long as you follow instructions and rest, you should be fine in four weeks, give or take, to resume normal activities. ”
She lifts her brows and leans back into the pillows like a queen on her throne. “When you say normal activities…”
She turns her head and looks straight at me.
God help me.
I keep my face neutral and clear my throat. “She means to resume her studies, of course, Doctor.”
The doctor smothers his amusement, nodding. “Of course. As long as the ribs are healing appropriately, yes, Miss Ravencroft. You may resume all activities. Including classes.” He pauses for a moment. “And extracurriculars.”
Deirdre flashes a wicked grin, and I drag a hand down my face as the doctor nods once more and exits the room.
As soon as the door clicks shut, she bursts into a laugh.
“Classes, huh?”
“You heard the man,” I say dryly, crossing my arms. “Activities are contingent on continued healing. No running. No overdoing it. Definitely no stairwells.”
She rolls her eyes and stretches slightly, then winces when the motion tugs at her side.
“Fine. I promise not to overdo it, Professor.”
The way she says professor should be illegal.
I walk toward her, keeping my voice level. “That better not be your version of fine print.”
She grins, reaching for the tea I brought her. “Just saying…I’ve waited twelve days to feel like myself again. So you better keep up.”
I lean in, brushing her hair back from her face. “I’ll keep up, sweetheart. But you don’t have to prove anything to me.”
She softens at that. Just briefly, but it’s there.
And even with the bruises and the healing she still has to face, I swear she’s never looked stronger.
The door swings open with zero subtlety, and of course, it’s Claire.
She bounds into the room, practically radiating excitement, hair swept into a messy braid, cheeks flushed like she sprinted here from wherever she parked.
“I brought cinnamon muffins!” she announces, holding up a brown paper bag like a trophy. “And a very overpriced latte for you!” She looks at me, “I didn’t know he was here yet. You could have texted me! I wouldn’t have interrupted!”
Deirdre laughs. “Because you never knock anyway.”
Claire leans over and gently hugs her, careful not to touch her ribs. “You look so much better,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.
“I feel better. Guess what?”
Claire raises a brow. “What?”
“I’m getting discharged tomorrow.”
Claire gasps so loud I think the window rattles. “What?! That’s amazing! Oh my God, that’s…”
“I know,” Deirdre says, her eyes lighting up. “It still hurts like hell, but I’m mobile. I made it down the whole hallway this morning.” The pride in her face makes my heart want to burst.
Claire wipes at her eyes and fans her face. “I swear to God, if you don’t stop making me cry…I’m so proud of you, D.”
They’re smiling and giddy, and I should be relieved, but something tugs at me.
Because now that the end is in sight, I’ve already decided where she’ll be.
With me. Where she is safe, where she can heal, and I have control of her environment.
“Well,” I say, stepping into the space between them. “You’ll be staying with me. The house is prepped and…”
“No.”
One word. Firm. Immediate.
I blink. “What?”
Deirdre folds her arms across her chest, shoulders stiffening. “I’m going back to the dorm, Kieran.”
“Deirdre—”
“I’ve already decided,” she says. “I thought about it all week during my sessions. I need to face it, Kieran. I can’t let that place haunt me. If I don’t go back and reclaim that space, I’ll never move on from what happened.”
Her words hit me like a slap. Not because they’re wrong. But because they’re so her.
Strong. Stubborn. Unbreakable.
But that doesn’t make them easier to accept.
“You were attacked there,” I say. “You almost died.”
“I know.” Her voice grows quieter, but her spine doesn’t bend. “But it’s mine. My space. My life. I refuse to let him take any more from me.”
We stare at each other, tension humming between us like a taut wire.
“You could stay with me just for a few weeks. Until classes start back…” I offer, more like a plea.
”I need to go back,“ she says, enunciating each word.
Claire’s staying wisely quiet now, sipping her latte and watching like a referee who wants no part of the next call.
I exhale through my nose, jaw tight. “Fine. But you’re not doing this alone.” I glance at Claire. “You’ll keep a close eye on her. No exceptions.”
Claire nods solemnly. “I’ll be her bodyguard and emotional support human. Scout’s honor,” she says, holding up her hands in the Boy Scouts salute.
“And I’ll be visiting when I can.”
Deirdre sighs and lifts a finger. “Which brings me to another thing. We still need to be a secret.”
Her words cause me to flinch.
“I don’t want to risk either of our futures,” she continues. “If Sheridan finds out we’re together, that’s it. For you. For me. And I am still your TA this semester.”
I start pacing. My pulse spikes. “Do you know how helpless I feel? Not being able to protect you? Not being able to care for you the way I want to?”
“You can care for me,“ she says. “But you have to trust me, too. You can’t be with me twenty-four-seven.”
I stop pacing. “What about at night? When Claire’s working? You’ll be alone…”
Deirdre blinks. “Working?”
Claire clears her throat. “Surprise. I’ve been working at Salvation. Covering your shifts until you’re ready to come back.”
I spin toward Deirdre. “You’re not…”
“Don’t even think about it,“ she says, narrowing her eyes. “I am going back to work.”
Claire lights up. “Ooh! Maybe Vincent will let us work the same nights. Imagine the chaos!”
I mutter under my breath, “Poor Gabe.”
They both shoot daggers at me at the same time.
“What?” I raise my hands. “One of you is a handful. Two? Insanity.” I chuckle lightly.
Deirdre tries to hide her amused grin. Claire fails completely and giggles.
And despite the frustration thrumming in my chest, there’s something beautiful about this. The way she stands her ground. The way she insists on reclaiming her life.
She’s not just surviving.
She’s fighting.
And no matter how hard it is to let her lead this battle her own way, I’ll be by her side for every second of it.