54
AURORA
“How could you walk around like this? God-fucking-damn it, Aurora.” Ethan carefully removes my shoe. “If you don’t start listening to me, I’m sending you to New York.”
My blood-soaked sock sticks to the insole. I flinch and attempt to yank my foot away. “No, you won’t.”
His fingers encircle my ankle, steadying me while he peels off my sock. “Watch me.”
“Alright, let’s see here.” Nurse Brody shines a penlight and ignores our bickering, his chipper tone never wavering. “You’ve got a few nasty cuts here,” he says as he lifts a pair of tweezers.
My heart rate picks up a notch, and I press into Jax behind me. “I picked out a couple of pieces already.”
While my adrenaline was high and I was eager to get to the hospital, I sat on the side of the tub and hastily ripped out what chunks of glass I could manage. I whimpered and cried—a lot. It was not my finest moment.
The nurse grasps my foot and digs the tweezers into my inflamed arch.
Hot, searing pain has me trying to pull out of Ethan’s firm grip, and I whimper-cry, “Ow!”
My husband tightens his arms around my chest to prevent me from escaping and drops his head to my shoulder. “Fuck, I’m sorry, baby.”
I bite my lower lip, and tears wet my eyelashes.
Ethan’s stormy gaze meets mine. “In New York, you could work on the loft, design in your studio, and rest. The twins will stay with you, my family will keep you safe.” He’s serious, his brows pinched in concern.
“I’m not abandoning Reece when he needs us. He’d never leave me, and I’d never leave either of you.”
His frown deepens, and he clenches his jaw, the muscle bunching. “There are people who want to hurt you. You are hurt. I’d send Jax too, if it wasn’t for the case and hockey. We’ll hire a nurse?—”
“No.” A piece of glass is freed, and blood spills from the wound. My frustration boils over, and I shake my head. “Not happening.”
“Aurora.”
“ Ethan .” I mock his cautionary tone. “We can move into your downtown penthouse. If the twins want to stay, they can take Jax’s place. It hasn’t sold, and it’s only a block from yours. After Reece is discharged, we’ll go to Laguna or remain in LA. We’re not separating.”
Jax lifts his head. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s not fight. Everyone is tired and cranky.”
The nurse switches to the other foot and draws my attention from that icy glare.
“How long is the surgery?” I ask Brody to distract from the pain and the awkward silence.
“Depends on the severity, but about ten hours.”
I stare, wide-eyed. “Ten hours?”
“Maybe longer.” He concentrates on a stubborn sliver in my heel. “They need to repair damaged blood vessels and nerves, remove bone fragments, and restructure his shoulder and arm with plates and screws.” He glances up. “It’ll be a long recovery.”
My eyes find Ethan’s, and he releases a defeated sigh. “You will rest and go nowhere alone.”
“We’ll be here.” Desi glances at his brother for confirmation.
“We’ll take shifts,” Dante agrees. “They can’t keep us in this room forever.”
Brody bandages my feet and brings some blankets, and I pass out in Jackson’s arms.
Multiple times, I’m roused by Ethan brushing my hair from my face and kissing my temple. I catch him doing the same to Jax in between pacing.
I doubt he wants me to go to New York, but he’s scared. Tonight’s horror has rattled him.
When I wake, I have no idea whether it’s night or day, but a new nurse, Kayla, tells us Reece is in recovery.
“We’ll need you to vacate so the team can make him comfortable.”
Her vague statement churns my stomach, and I have to splash cold water on my face in the bathroom.
“Some orthopedic bigwig was flown in from his vacation in Belize,” Charlie rambles while we sit in the waiting room. “The surgery was twelve hours and required seven specialists. When he was shot before, he was the specialist. All we had were medics in the desert.”
I furrow my brows. “He was shot? In the military?”
“Oh, yeah. In the leg and knifed in the gut, but I should probably shut up.”
“Holy shit.” Unsure what else to say, I ask, “Is your real name Charlie?”
“No, but that’s a story for another day.” Despite his words, he takes a breath and continues. “After a bombing, I was the only person left from the Charlie Squadron. Instead of Team Charlie, there was just Charlie.”
I gawk at him in astonishment. How freaking sad is that? “I’m sorry.”
Jax peers around me with the same stunned expression.
Charlie thrusts his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t remember any of it. One minute, I was hacking the enemy’s systems; the next, I was lying in the dirt, my skin on fire. If Reece hadn’t rescued me, I’d be dead. We’ve been together since.”
Sorrow hits me. I’m the other woman stealing Reece from his partner. No wonder Charlie is critical of me.
“Did Reece ever tell you how he got his nickname?”
I tilt my head. “Ricky? No.”
“His is harder to explain. It’s a tricky homophone.
We were working a makeshift orphanage and wrote our names on tape, thinking the kids could read.
They couldn’t. One kid sounded out ‘Reece’ as ‘Ricky.’ He’d correct them, and they’d laugh hysterically.
Finally, he gave up.” Charlie averts his gaze, and his voice becomes distant. “It was funny.”
His tone is anything but humorous.
“Sheldon,” Desi calls out. “Stop making her sad. You really are terrible with women.”
Commotion fills the hallway, drawing me from Charlie’s grumbles.
I rise and stand in the doorway. A bed is wheeled off the elevator, and I gasp.
The world beneath my feet tilts on its axis.
I comprehend what I’m seeing, but at the same time, I don’t.
Reece. My Reece is pale and lifeless. He lies with his eyes softly closed, his chest rising and falling in an unnatural, mechanical rhythm. Machines and tubes and half a dozen people surround him.
They come closer, and I will his eyelids to open, to show me those ocean blues, to prove to me he’s okay.
He doesn’t, and I’m left feeling adrift and empty.