Rusty collapsed, literally slumped back, unable to keep her knees locked. Law was there in an instant, the big biker’s arms sliding around her waist to hold her up. Tears sprang to her eyes and started flowing uncontrollably.
He’s going to be okay. I’m not going to lose him.
She kept saying the words over and over in her head, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Law turned her in his arms and his breath hitched, his relief as acute as hers. “Thank fuck,” he whispered.
The nurse started to leave, and Rusty pulled away, calling out to her. “Can I sit with him?”
She glanced down the hall, then at Rusty. “Okay, but just for a little bit. He needs his rest.”
“Are you coming in?” Law shook his head, and she got the feeling he needed a moment on his own.
“I’ll go get us some coffee.” Then he headed off.
Rusty approached the door, heart in her throat, and eased it open. The light was low, but the curtains were open and moonlight spilled in across the white sheets, making them almost glow. Reid lay motionless in his bed, hooked up to several machines, tubes feeding liquids into his veins. His eyes were closed, and those beautiful dark lashes rested on his cheeks. His chest was bare, and a thick white bandage was wrapped around his stomach.
She lifted her hand to her mouth to hold back the sob burning her throat. Oh, God.
Grabbing a chair, she pulled it close, as close as she could, and sat beside him. His hand lay at his side, and she took it in hers, turning it over. Holding it to her mouth, she kissed his big, strong, callused palm and lifted it to her face, drawing in his scent, his warmth. Despite the smell of hospital and disinfectant, his skin smelled the way it always did. Spicy, with a hint of motor oil. It went a long way to calming her. She placed her other hand on his wrist, feeling his pulse strong against her fingers, and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.
He’s going to be okay. He’s not leaving me.
And she wasn’t leaving his side, not until he opened his eyes, not until she got a chance to tell him what she needed to tell him.
That she loved him.
Sun battered against Rusty’s eyelids, the warmth of it heating her face.
She didn’t open her eyes, couldn’t, not yet. There’d been some complications after Reid’s operation. He’d cracked his head hard when he’d hit the ground, and there’d been some swelling. They’d decided to keep him under for a few days.
The swelling had gone down the day before, but he hadn’t woken up yet. She was terrified. What if he didn’t wake up? What if she never got to look into those pale brown eyes and tell him that she loved him?
So no, she couldn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t ready. Couldn’t bear to look at him lying there, so still. Not yet.
Alex and Piper had stopped by with a change of clothes and some decent food. Not that she could eat anything.
Law had brought Reid’s mother to the hospital that first night, and they’d sat together in this room every day. But right now, she was alone. Carol had left hours ago, had gone home to get some sleep, grab a shower. And Rusty had curled up in the chair by the window, the one right by Reid’s bed, and had tried to catch a few minutes sleep. She’d obviously slept longer than she intended because now it was morning. She couldn’t just lie here, hiding. Reid needed her to be strong, no matter how hard, how painful it was.
Brushing her hair off her face, she dragged her eyes open and turned to his bed.
A pair of pale brown eyes stared back.
She blinked, couldn’t move, could barely breathe—just held his gaze, unable to look away.
“Rusty?”
That rough voice went through her, over her, caressing her. She blinked again, and a hot tear streaked down her face. Still she couldn’t move, throat too tight to speak.
“Baby…don’t cry.” He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips, the same way she had his that first night. His lips were warm and dry. “Come here.”
“You’re awake.”
“Yeah, baby. Now come here.”
“You’re going to be okay.” She started shaking, not realizing until that moment how truly terrified she’d been, scared out of her mind that he might never wake up, that he might have suffered permanent damage. Her teeth started chattering and another tear fell, followed by another.
“Shit.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Foxy, you gotta come here.” He started to struggle in his bed, trying to get up, and that managed to break through the shock, the paralyzing relief.
Scrambling off the chair, she went to him. The grip he had on her hand moved to her wrist, and he gently tugged her closer. “Get up here.”