by Eva Ashwood
Banning heads down into the bunker for a while, and I find Elias speaking to another cop, a slightly shell-shocked look on his face. I stand with him until Banning emerges from the depths of the bunker again several minutes later.
“You’re good to go.” He nods grimly. “We’ll be in touch with further questions. But for now, you can go.”
As soon as Detective Banning releases us, we practically sprint to Gray’s car, still parked where we left it. I panic for a second as we near it.
“The keys! Did—”
“I’ve got a spare.” Declan’s voice is hollow as he pulls his key ring from his pocket. “We’re good.”
“We have to get to the hospital,” I whisper, my voice shaking a little. “Fuck, we need to see if Gray is going to be…”
Elias reaches for the keys, plucking them from his friend’s hand. “Let me drive, I know the way.” He looks at Declan and me and adds, “Neither of you look fit to drive.”
Declan hasn’t said a word since he shot Alan, except for answering the police officer’s questions, and instead of taking the front seat, I slide into the back with him, sitting close enough that our shoulders and thighs touch.
Elias’s gaze flickers to us from the rearview mirror as he turns on the car and heads back toward the main road. I can see concern reflected in his light brown eyes, but his lips curve into a soft smile, as if he’s thanking me for taking care of Declan. For sticking close to him.
The drive to the hospital seems to take forever, and I spend all of that time wondering if Gray even made it to the ER alive. I’m sure it’s a state-of-the-art medical facility, and that the nurses and doctors taking care of him are well-trained professionals for emergency situations. But life has fucked me over enough times that I already feel hopelessness filling my chest.
As soon as we reach the hospital, I practically run to the front desk. “Gray Eastwood,” I blurt to the receptionist at the ER. “We’re looking for a Gray Eastwood. Can we see him? Is he…”
She gives me a tight smile, holding up a finger as she checks her computer. “What was the name?”
“Gray. Eastwood.”
I have to consciously work to keep from shouting the name at her. I want to rip the keyboard from her hands and type it in myself.
“Let me just check for you, all right?” She speaks in what I think is supposed to be a calming tone as she taps at the keyboard. “Yes. We did have a Gray Eastwood come in just over an hour ago. What’s your relation?”
“He’s my…”
My throat closes over the words.
He’s my what?
My enemy turned lover? My boyfriend? My protector?
None of those sum up what Gray is to me. The closest thing to the truth I can come up with is, he’s my everything, but I don’t know if that’s going to convince her to let me see him.
Fortunately, before I can say anything else, Elias steps forward. He throws his family name around just like I’ve seen Gray and Declan do, and I’m so fucking grateful for these men right now.
The receptionist finally relents and waves over a nurse to take us into the back. I nearly sigh in relief as we follow the slight woman in blue scrubs through the hallways. She glances at me over her shoulder, leading the way.
“He’s still in surgery, so you’ll have to wait,” she says. “I’ll have someone come let you know when he’s out, and for now, you can wait here.”
She leaves us in a waiting room with comfortable furniture, and even though I know we’re as close to Gray as we can get right now, it doesn’t feel like enough. I want to be inside the surgery suite. I want to hold his hand and lend him my strength, to make sure the doctors don’t fuck anything up.
They just… they have to save him.
It feels like it takes hours. Maybe it does, I honestly don’t know. All I know is that when I’m about ready to crawl out of my own skin with worry, the nurse finally returns.
“He’s in a recovery suite,” she tells us. “Room two-thirteen. You can—”
I push my way past her before she can even finish the sentence, Declan and Elias following close behind me. She protests, but I don’t listen, pushing the door to his room open and stepping inside. As we enter, I realize that two people are already in the room, standing by the bed.
Gray’s parents.
They look less than pleased to see me, but I don’t fucking care. When I look down at the bed, I realize Gray’s eyes are open, and everything else seems to melt away.
“Sparrow,” he croaks as our gazes meet. His eyes look dazed and groggy, but he’s awake.
He’s alive.
I cross the distance between us, not caring that his parents are watching, not caring that his mom is frowning in disapproval. He’s my fucking family, and he almost died today to save me, and I’m not going to let another second go by without telling him what I need to tell him.
He’s already reaching for me before I’m even by the bed, struggling up to a sitting position as he pulls me against him, crushing my lips to his.
I try to be gentle, conscious of his injuries. But Gray doesn’t seem to care. The pressure of his lips is hard and bruising, and as he kisses me, tears stream down my face, wave after wave of relief washing through me.
My throat is thick with emotion, and for once, I don’t fight against the tears like I have all my life. I just let myself fucking cry.
Finally, we break apart, gasping for breath. But he doesn’t let me leave him, holding me close to his body as he buries his face in my neck, kissing my shoulder.
“I love you,” he whispers into my hair. “Fucking hell, I love you, Sparrow.”
My heart slams to a stop in my chest. I pull away, needing to see his eyes, even though I know he’s being completely fucking serious. I hold his chin in my hands, looking at his pale face, his strong gaze, the glassiness of his blue-green eyes, and I know that everything has changed.
“I love you too, Gray,” I whisper. “So fucking much.”
Then I lean in to kiss him again.
Because I can.
Because I love him, and he loves me. And we’re both still alive.
26
The hospital room is quiet, aside from the occasional shuffle outside of Gray’s room.
It feels strange, almost peaceful, to be surrounded by nothing but the dim hum of machines, a soft darkness as the sun sets outside the window, bathing the room in golden hues. Gray’s been sleeping for the past couple hours, his parents long gone, but none of us have left.
We’ve been through too much together to just be able to walk away, even just to get sleep or grab a shower.
I rinsed off the blood on my face in the bathroom, and a doctor took a look at the wound where the bullet grazed me, but fortunately, he declared that I didn’t need any stitches.
Elias’s body is warm compared to the heavily air-conditioned room as I rest my head up against his shoulder. My body slumps against his as I doze. I’m so fucking tired, but I can’t stay asleep for long, my eyelids always snapping open to check on Gray. Declan sits on the other side of me at the end of the couch, my feet propped up on his lap, his head bent at an angle against the back of the cushion.
All of us are exhausted, wrecked.
Is it really done? Is it really all over?
My head spins with questions and worries, but they’re all so far in the back of my head that they’re barely fully formed thoughts. All I can think about right now is Gray, and the fact that he’s going to be fine despite saving my life today by taking a bullet.
All I can think about is the fact that he could’ve died before I got to say I loved him.
But he didn’t. He didn’t die.
We’re all still alive, and Alan is dead.
We fucking won.
I’m somewhere between dreaming and awake in the late evening when I hear the door click. My eyelids flutter open as I lift my head. Nurses have been in and out every couple hours to check on Gray’s vitals and adjust h
is pain meds, but the door hinge creaks slowly, as if the person is hesitating.
My brows draw together as I realize it’s Maria. Mom. She peeks her head nervously around the door. When her gaze settles on mine, I blink, sitting up straighter.
Elias and Declan both tense next to me as my movement wakes them up, their grasps tightening protectively on my body.
“No, it’s okay,” I whisper.
Assuring them that I’ll be fine with Maria, I untangle myself from their arms and gesture for her to follow me out of the room. Whatever this conversation is, I don’t want to have it in the room where Gray is sleeping. I can’t guarantee that I won’t end up yelling.
Maria shifts nervously on her feet as we stand outside of the room, not meeting my gaze for a long moment. When she finally looks at me, her eyes are rimmed with red but her face is dry.
“I found out about Charles,” she says slowly, staring at me as if she can’t quite believe I’m real. As if the events of the day have only been a dream—or maybe a nightmare. “The cops came and questioned me. They told me he’s… he’s dead.”
I don’t know what she wants me to say. I consider saying I’m sorry, but I’m not sure it would be the truth, and I don’t want to lie to her for some reason.
I half expect my mother to curse me for my indifference, but instead, she just shakes her head. “It’s what he gets for dealing with the devil.” She wrings her hands together, her lips forming a tight line as her voice turns bitter. “I’m mourning him, of course. But more than his death, I’m mourning the man I thought I knew he was. The man I married, not the one who died today. Not the one who…”
She clears her throat, pushing away any emotions, and I begin to realize that a lot of the toughness I have comes from the petite woman standing in front of me.
“I always knew he was competitive in business,” she says, looking up and holding my gaze. “When I was younger, I was attracted to that. He always wanted to win, and he was ruthless when it came to making a profit. In the beginning, it was no wonder that he made his way to the top so quickly. He was just that good at what he did. But I never, never imagined he would put our own child on the line to achieve those goals, to save everything he had worked for.”
Again, I’m not really sure what to say. I didn’t know Charles, not like she knew him. I hardly know the woman standing in front of me, for that matter. I know what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you thought you loved, but this… this is different.
“I’m sorry,” Maria says, breaking the lapse of silence. Her voice grows a little stronger. “That’s why I wanted to come today. I’m sorry about your friend too, but I wanted to see you and tell you I’m sorry. I wish I’d tried harder to find you instead of accepting that you’d run away. Charles told me he was doing everything he could. He hired detectives—or, I thought he did. Now I don’t know anymore.” Tears well in her eyes. “I should never have stopped looking for you. I should never have accepted Charles’s word, never have given up hope. What sort of mother does that make me?”
I shrug. For some reason, I find that despite the fact that I wish more than anything she hadn’t given up on me, I don’t resent her for it. I don’t feel the rage I felt this morning when I found out that they—or rather, my father—gave me up to Alan Montgomery.
The woman standing in front of me didn’t betray me. She didn’t know what was going on, and even though she’s barely had a chance to be a mother to me, I know that wasn’t her fault.
But I’ve got other things to focus on right now, starting with Gray, Declan, and Elias. And Max. Those are the people who truly matter, the people who have been with me through everything.
“Well, I should probably go and leave you to your friends,” Maria says, breaking the awkward silence and shifting on her feet again. “I’ll ask one of the nurses to show me the way out.”
She turns to leave, but my heart does a little squeeze in my chest. She may not feel like my mother, but that doesn’t mean I want her completely out of my life.
You’ve just found her. Don’t let her walk away.
“Wait, Mom.”
I blurt the words in a low voice, stepping toward her. She turns around instantly, as if she was hoping I would stop her. I find my cheeks flushing, despite myself. I’m absolute shit at emotional stuff, at opening up and being vulnerable. I learned to do it with the Sinners as they gained my trust and my love, but it still isn’t easy for me to open up with strangers.
And that’s what this woman feels like right now. A stranger.
But I don’t want her to feel like that.
I want to know her, even if it’s just a little bit. Even if it has to happen in baby steps.
“I just…” I clear my throat. “I feel like we should talk sometime. Catch up. We’ve missed a lot but… maybe we can make up for some of it.”
A smile, radiant and pure, breaks out on her face. She nods exuberantly as she reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone. “I would love that, Sabrina.” Her smile falters a little, and she hesitates. “Or is it Sophie? I heard your friends calling you Sophie when you were at the house.”
“It’s Sophie,” I tell her firmly. I don’t care what my given name is, I’m not Sabrina anymore. I’ll never be that person again.
“All right. Sophie,” she says, her eyes going a little glassy with tears. “It’s a lovely name. It suits you.” She holds out her phone. “If you put your phone number in here, we can get ahold of each other.”
I take the phone from her, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know how phones work,” I say dryly, typing in my number.
She lets out a small laugh. “Right. Of course. I’m sorry. I’m—I’m nervous.”
“It’s okay.” I hesitate before adding, “I am too.” Then I hold out the phone. “Here. I texted myself so I’ll have your number as well.”
Our fingers brush as she takes the cell phone back from me. Her hands are soft and dainty, just like her. I definitely didn’t get her delicate features—though we do resemble each other in some ways. Her hair is almost the exact same shade of blonde as mine, minus the blue dye that streaks my locks.
She gives me one more smile, this one a little more hopeful and less forced. “Thank you. Goodbye, Sophie.”
I don’t give her a hug. I’ve never been a big hugger, and I only show casual physical affection with the few people I’ve gotten genuinely close to. Maybe we’ll get there in our future. Or maybe we won’t, but that’s not the point. I don’t have to look to her to be my family, because all the family I need is back in the hospital room behind me.
Even if my mother and I never completely heal, that’s okay.
I watch until she steps into the elevator, giving me one last wave before she disappears behind the closing doors. As I turn to head back into Gray’s room, a small lump rises in my throat.
But the ache is a good one.
27
I wake up with a crick in my neck, curled up on a chair in the waiting room with absolutely no recollection of how or when I got here. Declan and Elias are by my side, however, so either we moved as a team or one of the nurses kicked us out of Gray’s room in the middle of the night and I just don’t remember it.
Elias stirs next to me, blinking the sun out of his eyes. It’s early morning, judging by the sunlight that pours through the windows. He yawns and gives me a crooked smile.
“Hey, Blue. How’d you sleep?”
I shift a little on the seat. It’s padded and fairly large, and my body is warmed from both sides by Declan and Elias. All in all, there are much worse places to try to grab a few hours of rest.
“Not bad.” I grin at him, reaching up to run my fingertips over the light shadow on his jawline. “You?”
“Good.” His brown eyes dance with humor. “You make a pretty damn good pillow.”
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”
He chuckles, looking infinitely pleased—as if inane early morning banter about which
of us makes a better pillow is exactly what he’s been craving.
Actually, it probably has been, I realize.
It’s what I’ve been craving. Little moments like this. Tiny moments of happiness and peace, where there are no threats hanging over our heads, no danger lurking around the corner. Moments where we can just enjoy each other and bask in the feelings that have developed between us.
As if sensing my thoughts, Elias reaches up and traps my hand with his, pressing my palm to the curve of his jaw and cheek. He gazes down at me quietly for a moment, something warm passing through his light brown eyes.
“You know,” he says quietly, his lips curving into a smile. “I didn’t want to steal Gray’s thunder yesterday since he’s the one who got shot, and I was so fucking glad he was okay. But, Blue? I love you too.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to keep my smile from growing so wide that I look like an idiot. But it’s impossible to contain. A giddy sort of happiness spreads through my chest, and the feeling is so foreign that it almost scares me for a second.
It’s bliss, I realize. I’m not sure I’ve ever actually felt it before, but that seems like the best word to describe the feelings bubbling up inside my chest.
Of course this is how Elias would tell me he loves me. Curled up on hospital chairs in the early morning hours with Declan leaning close on my other side. It’s such a perfect, intimate, real moment that it takes my breath away.
For a second, I can’t speak, but I force my vocal cords to function long enough to whisper, “I love you too, Elias. More than I ever thought possible.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Happiness infuses his tone as he leans in to kiss me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I have to remind myself that it is natural, that this is my life now.
And I’m so goddamn lucky.
As if sensing the heat building in the air, Declan opens one eye, watching his friend with a look of mock suspicion on his face. Elias chuckles when he notices that Declan’s awake, deepening our kiss. Declan groans. He reaches for me, bringing his lips to mine as soon as Elias and I separate, his kiss soft and hungry.