Chapter Five
MERCS
The Next Day
The tension in the waiting room presses against my chest like a weight I can’t shift. Every breath feels shallow, dragged in and pushed out on instinct rather than choice.
Today, they’re bringing Effa out.
That thought alone makes my hands shake.
We’re gathered in the waiting area again, sitting in the same chairs, looking at the same muted walls, with the same machines humming somewhere beyond those doors, waiting for the doctor to explain how this is going to happen.
How they’re going to wake my girl up.
How they’ll know if she’s coming back to us fully.
If she’s coming back at all.
The thought nearly buckles me, and I bend forward, hands braced on my knees, forcing air into my lungs.
Will she breathe on her own?
Will she wake up confused?
Will she remember me?
The questions spiral, each one heavier than the last. I’m trying to stay steady, trying to hold myself together for everyone else, but the uncertainty is brutal.
A gentle, reassuring hand moves slowly up and down my back. I straighten and see Kristy beside me, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. She looks wrecked, but she’s still here. They’re all still here.
“Will they hurry the hell up?” Donny mutters, echoing exactly what’s clawing at my insides.
“Donny,” Lettie chides softly, though there’s strain in her voice too. “They’ll come when they’re ready.”
I start pacing before I even realize I’ve moved.
“Mercs, you’re wearing a groove in the floor,” Tank says. “Calm the fuck down.”
I ignore him and keep walking, needing to burn off the pressure building under my skin.
“Leave him alone,” Andi shoots back at Tank. “You’d be the same.”
A sound behind me makes me turn sharply.
Effa’s specialist stands there, a folder tucked beneath his arm, his expression carefully neutral.
The world seems to narrow to the space between us. The scrape of chairs, the low murmur of voices, even the hum of fluorescent lights, all of it dulls into a distant blur. My pulse pounds so hard in my ears that it almost drowns out everything else.
My lungs forget how to work, and for a split second, I’m not pacing. I’m not breathing. I’m not even thinking.
I’m just waiting.
Waiting for the man in front of me to either give me my life back… or tear it apart.
He steps closer, offering a professional smile that does nothing to ease the tension in the room. “It’s good to see so many of you here supporting Vespa.”
Just get to it.
“We’re going to begin the process of bringing her out of the coma shortly. It will be gradual. We’ll reduce sedation and monitor her responses carefully.”
My pulse thunders in my ears.
“We can allow two people in the room during the process. Given hospital policy and the presence of her parents, we’ll be allowing them access.”
The words land as a goddamn sucker punch straight to the heart.
I nod once before I even feel it, jaw tightening as I turn away slightly and stare up at the ceiling. I understand. Of course I understand. They’re her parents.
But I want to be there.
I want her to see me first.
To know I didn’t leave.
“Is there any way to make it three?” Lettie asks gently.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor replies. “There won’t be enough space.”
That’s it then.
The tension in the waiting room presses against my chest like a weight. I swallow hard and look at the floor, forcing the disappointment back down where it belongs.
This isn’t about me.
It never was.
“We’ll come get you once we know more,” the doctor adds before guiding Donny and Lettie down the hall.
Lettie pauses long enough to squeeze my arm. “I’m sorry, Mercs.”
“Go,” I tell her quietly. “Be with her.”
Their footsteps fade, and the waiting room falls into a heavy silence.
I stand there for a moment, fists loose at my sides, fighting the urge to storm down that hallway anyway.
Alana’s hand settles on my shoulder, and I turn to her. It hits me then that she’s in the same position I am. She doesn’t get to be there either.
“We’ll be fine,” I tell her, though my voice isn’t as strong as I’d like. “She’s going to wake up. She has to.”
“She will,” Alana says firmly, even though her eyes shine with tears. “She’s stubborn. And… she has you.”
I let out a quiet breath. “I’m the lucky one.”
Luke clears his throat. “Coffee?” he suggests gently. “It might be a while.”
I glance toward the hallway where they disappeared from view.
A while.
Every second is going to feel like an hour.
Every hour is going to feel like an eternity.
But I nod.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “Let’s get coffee.”
Because if I’m not in that room with her, the only thing I can do is be ready for whatever comes next.
***
Sitting back on the plastic chair in the waiting room, anxiety works its way under my skin like it’s trying to live there.
I keep wondering… Is she awake yet? Is it happening right now? Is she opening her eyes, and I’m stuck out here, missing it.
With no word from anyone, it’s driving me insane. My nerves are shot, my knee is bouncing relentlessly while I gnaw at the inside of my lip so hard I’m surprised it’s not bleeding. It’s been nearly an hour. Surely something has happened by now.
I drag in a sharp breath, wanting this over. Wanting Effa awake and everything to be fine. Instead, I’m stuck in this suspended hell, wondering if she’s coming back to me and whether she’ll wake up without me there.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, throwing my hands up. “There has to be something by now.”
Luke drops into the chair beside me. “Mercs, I know you’re frustrated. We all are. But you’ve got to ride it out. Sorry, mate.”
“Fuck!” It comes out louder than I intend, and the room goes quiet, sympathetic eyes turning my way.
I don’t want their damn sympathy. I want a doctor walking down that hall telling me she’s okay.
“She’s awake,” someone calls from across the corridor.
I didn’t even hear them approach.
I’m on my feet so fast that my vision swims for a second as I turn and see Lettie standing beside the doctor.
Relief hits the room in one long exhale.
“How is s-she?” My voice cracks despite my effort to steady it.
“She’s groggy,” the doctor explains, scanning his notes.
“Her speech is a little muddled and her voice is hoarse, but long-term memory appears intact. As expected, there’s a gap surrounding the incident and the period leading up to it.
Motor function is weak but responsive. Cognitively, she’s presenting within normal parameters. ”
I barely register the medical terms. All I hear is intact… responsive… within normal parameters.
“She’s doing well,” he continues. “That doesn’t mean we’re ruling out complications from the overdose or the anoxic injury. We’ll monitor closely over the next few days. Her ribs are healing as expected, and it should be around six weeks for full recovery.”
My stomach knots in a strange mix of relief and disbelief.
She’s awake.
She’s talking.
Lettie’s eyes are red from crying, but she smiles at me. “Mercs, I came out so you can go in.”
My heart slams hard against my ribs, once, twice, and then continues its heavy rhythm.
“Donny’s still with her. We didn’t want her alone. But once you’re in, he’ll step out so Alana can go next.”
I glance at Alana, who is grinning through tears while she nods at me.
I don’t wait.
I move fast down the hall, sanitizing my hands without really seeing what I’m doing. When the ICU doors slide open, I slow just outside her area, catching sight of Donny standing by the bed.
For a second, I stop.
Not because I’m unsure.
But because I need to steady myself.
She’s alive. She’s awake. That alone is enough to undo me before I step inside.
Donny turns, offering me a tired smile. “Hey, kid. She’s been asking for you.”
Relief nearly buckles my knees.
I step around him and finally see my girl.
No ventilator.
Her green eyes are open.
She looks pale, exhausted, but she’s there.
She’s here.
Her gaze lands on me, and that slow, familiar smile spreads across her face. “Hey.” Her voice is raspy, fragile.
I take her hand carefully, emotion hitting me hard enough to make my chest ache. My fingers lace with hers, and the connection sends a jolt through me, enough to ground me.
“Hey, baby,” I murmur, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I scared myself too,” she says softly, lifting her hand to press mine more firmly against her face.
Donny leans down and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll give you two a minute before I send Alana in. Love you, baby girl.” He squeezes her leg gently and steps out.
I drag the chair closer and sit beside her, refusing to let go of her hand.
“I’m so s-sorry, Kaden,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
“Don’t you dare.”
“I took a drink from him,” she says quietly. “I don’t remember much, but I know that part. I should have known better.”
“Stop.” My grip tightens just slightly. “No one thought he was capable of that. I knew he was trouble, but not that. Not this.”
She swallows. “Was he going to…”
I shake my head firmly. “He didn’t get the chance. I found you, and you collapsed. Everything went to hell after that. He gave you too much, and your small body couldn’t handle it.”
Her lip trembles. “I can’t believe he wanted to do that to me.”
“He’s never coming near you again,” I tell her evenly. “That’s done.”
Her gaze drops to my hands. “Your knuckles look wrecked.”
“Not as wrecked as his face.”
That pulls a grin from her, bright and genuine, and something inside me loosens.
“I’m usually all about peace and love,” she says faintly. “But in this case…I hope you broke something.”
“I’m fairly confident I did.”
I lean down and kiss her softly. Her lips are dry, cracked, not like the soft warmth I’m used to, but that doesn’t matter because the connection is still there. That spark still moves through me like it always has.
I keep it slow, careful—a promise, not a demand.
When I pull back, her eyes remain closed for a second, savoring it.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” I admit quietly. “I don’t know what I would have done if—”
“I’m here,” she interrupts softly. “I’m not going anywhere.” She studies me, then adds, “While I was out… I wasn’t completely gone. I could hear you. All of you. I couldn’t make sense of it, but I knew you were there, and I felt safe.”
Emotion tightens my throat.
“Dad says you brought me back?”
“And possibly broke a couple of ribs in the process,” I admit. “I didn’t exactly have formal training. The doctors told me they gave you a nerve block.”
She gives me a tired smile. “I’ll take sore ribs over the alternative.” Her fingers curl around mine. “You saved my life.”
“I’ll always save your life,” I tell her quietly. “Because my life is yours.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re dangerously smooth?”
“Only with you,” I reply. “Everyone else thinks I’m a hardass.”
She studies me. “How’s Kiera?”
Even now, fresh out of a coma, she’s thinking about someone else.
“There she is,” I murmur, brushing her hair back again. “Kiera’s okay. Worried, but okay. I messaged her when I got out of custody.”
Her eyes widen. “Out of custody?”
I exhale. “When I went after Jett, the police got involved. I spent a few hours in a cell. Luke handled it. Jett was charged, but made bail.”
Her grip tightens.
“He came at us again at the hotel,” I continue evenly. “With a knife this time. Cooper got cut stepping in front of me. He’s fine, but Jett’s done. He’s not coming back from this one.”
She pales slightly. “A knife?”
“It’s handled,” I say firmly. “He’s not a threat anymore.”
She exhales slowly, relief settling into her expression. “What about the tour?”
I hesitate.
“It’s delayed,” I tell her honestly. “Dates are being rescheduled. Press statements are out. It’s messy, but not over.”
She nods, absorbing that.
“And Swift Division?” she asks softly.
There it is.
The question I knew was coming.
And I already know she was going to care about them, even after everything she’s going through.