Chapter 32
The Rhythm of Breath
Reed
Bryce's dead weight pinned her to the floor.
The sight of Maliyah trapped beneath him sent me sprinting across the room, my legs burning with a speed I didn't know I possessed.
Before John could stop me, I'd thrown Bryce's body aside with enough force to send him rolling across the floor.
My hands still burned with the satisfaction of it, with the need to put distance between this monster and Maliyah.
His vacant eyes appeared fixed on eternity, and for one savage heartbeat, I imagined flames licking at his soul in whatever darkness waited beyond this room.
Maliyah lay motionless on the floor, each shallow breath a victory. My rage transformed into something worse—a cold, sickening terror that clawed at my insides before hardening back into fury at the sight of what that monster had done to her.
I took inventory of what he'd done to her.
One eye had swollen completely shut. The other remained closed—I hoped she was somewhere peaceful in her mind, because reality would be brutal when she woke.
Blood masked the true extent of her injuries, but I could make out the purple-black bruising beneath the crimson smears on her face, her arms, everywhere her skin showed through torn clothing.
I dropped to my knees beside her. "Maliyah." My voice cracked as I pressed trembling fingers against her neck, searching. There—faint but steady beneath my fingertips. "Stay with me, sweetheart. Please stay with me."
"Medic!" John's voice behind me. "We need a bus now!"
Footsteps thundered through the house. The trauma team swept in with equipment, voices overlapping. I stepped back—forced myself to let them work—but I couldn't look away. Not from her. Never again.
"Sir, are you riding with us?" The paramedic looked at me expectantly.
"Yes." I climbed in before anyone could object.
Maliyah lay strapped to the gurney, unconscious, IV already placed. The paramedic had said something about shock and trauma—a mercy, maybe, that she wasn't awake for this. I took the jump seat near her head. The doors slammed shut and we were moving, siren wailing.
"Maliyah." I kept my voice low even though she couldn't hear me. "I'm here. I'll be right here with you every step of the way."
The paramedic rattled off vitals to the hospital.
Because of the extent of her injuries, we were taking her to Mass General in Boston.
I caught fragments. Blood pressure low but stable.
Respirations shallow. Each word hit like a fist. I took her hand—careful of the IV line. Her fingers were cold. Limp.
John would have called Felicity by now—told her we'd found Maliyah, that we were en route to MGH. I knew she'd meet us there. The thought brought a small measure of relief. Maliyah would need her sister.
The siren wailed. The road stretched on. I kept talking to her anyway. Told her where we were going. That she was safe. That I wasn't leaving.
The trauma bay was chaos. Blue scrubs, overhead lights, a doctor calling orders.
"Officer. You'll have to wait out here. Family only." A nurse looked at me.
"Detective. And I am family—she’s my fiancé." The words came out before I could think. I knew I didn't have the right. I also knew they would stick to the rules with Maliyah. I swallowed hard, taking it down a notch, "And her sister is already en route—she's Maliyah's next of kin."
At the nurse’s nod, they let me follow as they moved her into the trauma bay. I stayed close, just outside the treatment area where I could see but wouldn't be in the way.
"Reed!"
I turned. Felicity rushed through the emergency entrance. Her hair was messy, no makeup, clothes thrown together. She looked frantic. "Where is she?"
"Trauma bay. They're assessing her now."
Felicity pushed past me, heading straight for the curtained area. A nurse intercepted her. "I'm her sister. Felicity. I'm next of kin."
The nurse checked something on a tablet, then nodded. "Come with me."
Felicity grabbed my hand, pulling me with her. We stood together at the edge of the treatment area. The doctor examined Maliyah with gentle hands, occasionally making notes.
"Get portable X-ray in here," someone called. "And book CT—full trauma protocol."
The X-ray machine arrived within minutes. They positioned it, took images, moved it again. Felicity's hand gripped mine tighter with each flash.
"Taking her to CT," a nurse announced.
We followed the gurney through hallways. Felicity kept pace beside it, one hand on the rail. I stayed just behind, giving her the space to be the sister Maliyah needed.
Outside the imaging suite, we waited. Felicity paced. I sat, elbows on knees, watching the closed doors.
"Tell me what happened," she said quietly.
I told her everything. The beach house. Bryce. The fight. How Maliyah had saved herself. Felicity's eyes filled with tears, but she didn't let them fall. Thirty minutes later, they wheeled Maliyah back to the trauma bay. We followed.
Dr. Pettit stood at a computer, studying the scans.
He turned to examine Maliyah again, occasionally referencing the images.
"Significant facial trauma—left orbital fracture, mandibular fracture requiring surgical repair.
Severe bruising and petechiae around the neck consistent with strangulation.
Three rib fractures on the left side. Right shoulder shows signs of rotator cuff strain, possibly a partial tear—we'll monitor it, but it shouldn't require surgery.
Right wrist has significant swelling but no fracture. "
Felicity made a small sound. I put my hand on her shoulder.
"Call ortho—that jaw needs open reduction and internal fixation. Prep an OR."
"Surgery?" Felicity asked.
Dr. Pettit looked at her. "Yes. The jaw fracture is displaced. We need to stabilize it surgically."
"How long?"
"Two to three hours for the jaw repair. We'll place plates and screws to stabilize the fracture, then wire it shut for healing. The orbital fracture looks stable—we'll monitor it, but I don't think it needs surgical intervention."
A nurse adjusted Maliyah's IV, added something to the line. "Pain medication."
Time blurred. Nurses moved around us, prepping equipment, drawing blood, checking monitors. Felicity stayed close to the gurney. I hung back, knowing my place wasn't at Maliyah's bedside. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Dr. Pettit returned with another doctor in surgical scrubs.
"This is Dr. Carter, our maxillofacial surgeon. She'll be performing the repair."
Dr. Carter studied the scans on a tablet. "The fracture is displaced but clean. Good candidate for ORIF. We'll go in, reduce the fracture, place titanium plates and screws for stability, then wire the jaw shut. Six weeks wired, then we'll reassess."
"Risks?" Felicity's voice was steady, but I heard the fear underneath.
"Standard surgical risks—infection, bleeding, anesthesia complications. Specific to this procedure, there's a small risk of nerve damage affecting sensation in her lower lip and chin. But the fracture needs to be stabilized or it won't heal properly."
Felicity nodded.
"We're ready to take her back," Dr. Carter said. "OR's prepped. While we have implied consent in life-threatening situations. I do want to try to get her agreement." Dr. Pettit leaned over the gurney. "Maliyah? Can you hear me? We need to talk about your surgery."
Nothing. He tried again, louder. "Maliyah?" Nothing.
He rubbed her chest round and round, calling out her name again. Her right eye fluttered. Opened just a crack. My heart lurched.
"Maliyah, I'm Dr. Pettit. You're at Mass General Hospital. Can you understand me?”
Her eye moved—searching, unfocused. Then found me. What escaped her throat wasn't language but a raw, animal sound—half-whimper, half-moan—that cracked something fundamental inside my chest. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, tracking silver paths down her temples into her hair.
Felicity stepped closer, taking Maliyah's hand. "I'm here, Mali. Reed's here too. You're safe."
Maliyah's fingers twitched against Felicity's. Then her eye found me again.
"I'm here." I moved closer. "I'm right here."
"Maliyah," Dr. Pettit said gently. "You have a broken jaw that needs surgery to repair. We need to do surgery to fix it—put in plates and screws to hold the bones together. Then we'll wire your jaw shut so it can heal. Do you understand?"
Her eye closed.
"I know you're in pain," Dr. Carter said. "The surgery will help. We'll stabilize the fracture and get you on proper pain management. But we need your consent. Can you nod if you understand and agree?"
Maliyah's eye opened again. Found Felicity first, then me.
I saw everything in that look. Terror. Pain. Exhaustion. And something else—something that looked like a question.
"It's okay," Felicity said softly. "They're going to help you."
Another sound escaped Maliyah—smaller this time. Broken.
"'Ids?" The word was barely recognizable, slurred and weak through her damaged jaw.
"The kids are with Caden," Felicity said immediately. "They're safe at our house. They're okay."
"'afe?"
"Yes. I promise. They're safe."
Her eye closed again. Tears continued to escape, following the trails marked before them. Her chest hitched once, twice, her breath catching in her throat as her fingers curled into the hospital sheet. She shook with the effort of holding herself together.
"Maliyah," Dr. Pettit said. "Can you nod for me? Do you consent to the surgery?"
For a long moment, nothing. Then the smallest movement of her head. Up and down. Barely there.
"Good. Thank you. We're going to take good care of you."
They started moving. Unlocking the gurney wheels. A nurse turned toward Felicity and me. "Only one person can accompany her to pre-op. Who should we plan to take back with us?"
Felicity didn't hesitate. "I'm her sister. I'll go."
The nurse nodded, making a note on her tablet.
Maliyah's hand shot out—grabbed mine with surprising strength. Her eye opened wide, frantic.
"'eed—" The sound was garbled, desperate.
I leaned close. "I'm here. I’m right here."
"'ease—" Her breathing hitched. "'on' 'eave—"
Please don't leave. The words I didn't deserve to hear. The trust I'd broken.
"I won't." I brought her hand to my lips, kissed her knuckles gently. "I'll be right outside. Felicity will stay with you. I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise."
"'omise?"
The word twisted something in my gut. All the promises I'd broken. All the ways I'd failed her.
"I promise, Maliyah. On everything I am. I'll be here." Her eye held mine for another moment. Searching for the lie. For the escape route I'd always taken. I didn't look away. Finally, her fingers loosened. She let go.
Felicity squeezed my shoulder as they wheeled Maliyah past me. "I'll take care of her."
I nodded, unable to speak. I followed as far as they would let me. Maliyah's eye stayed on me until they turned the corner. Then she was gone.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway, her broken voice still echoing in my ears.
Please don't leave. I'd already left once.
Walked away when she needed me because I was too scared to stay.
Not this time. Never again. I turned and walked to the surgical waiting room.
I sat down in a plastic chair and pulled out my phone.
John had texted: She okay?
Me.: In surgery. 2-3 hours.
John: You staying?
Me: Yeah.
John: Need company?
Me: Not right now.
John: Copy. I’ll get the paperwork taken care of.
Me: Thanks, man.
I set the phone down. Leaned forward, elbows on knees, and let my head drop into my hands. Two to three hours. I'd wait. However long it took. I'd made her a promise. And this time, I wasn't going to break it.