The nightmare he’d been flung into hearing the words Hannah and hospital in the same sentence had flung him back to a time when Hannah wasn’t able to say she was fine. Or anything else.
This is not then.
His fingers choked the steering wheel then pounded against it. He knew something like this was going to happen, fucking knew it. Why couldn’t she just listen to him? He drummed his hand against the steering wheel again.
But she wasn’t hurt. Not physically, hadn’t been in an accident. He’d seen things on the job that had given him plenty of bad moments, seen the dark side of human nature, had worked with people who’d been killed on the job. But nothing gutted him like the memories of his sister’s pain. So no, he didn’t want her to spread her wings. Not if there was a risk she could be hurt again. A panic attack? So bad she’d gone to the hospital? If this had anything to do with Stephen Fucking McKinney, he was going to kill him.
An hour later, Nick sat with Hannah, trying to rein in his worry and deal with exactly what had happened. He tried his best to listen and hear his sister telling him she was okay. When he couldn’t sit still any longer, he went in search of the doctor. If they weren’t keeping her, he wanted her out of there. And if she needed to be there, then they sure as hell should be doing something.
He hated hospitals, felt like he was coming out of his skin just being inside these sterile white walls with the white floors and quiet staff who always knew more about the people you loved than you did. He sought out a doctor with no luck—not surprising—then hit the bathroom. He wasn’t gone more than fifteen minutes, but when he returned, Hannah wasn’t alone.
He almost stumbled, caught himself, then froze when he saw the back of a woman sitting at Hannah’s bedside. It didn’t matter that almost a decade had passed. He would have known that dark hair anywhere. It belonged to the other piece of his heart. The one who’d left him. His breath left him on one word. “Mia.”
Chapter 7
NICK.
Mia heard before she saw. Just his voice. Just the one word. So strange the way the mind wove sound with emotion. It hit her hard and fast, and a shiver ran through her. She closed her eyes for a beat, thankful he couldn’t see her face.
She should have expected it—of course he would be here. But she hadn’t thought, hadn’t prepared. How did one prepare?
When she finally turned, familiar brown eyes met hers, knocking the breath from her lungs as decisively as a hard fall. There was shock in his eyes too, though he did a quick job covering it.
On trembling legs, she stood and faced him, her chest squeezing. It shouldn’t be this way. It shouldn’t hurt after all this time. Why does it hurt?
For a long beat, they only stared at each other. Time seemed to stop, and nothing else existed. The blood pulsed in her ears like ripples of the past. Her first and only love. Her first and only lover.
She’d imagined this moment a thousand times in a thousand different ways. Nick would say he was sorry. Nick would come to her, run to her, say that he’d been wrong, that he hated how much time they’d lost. Instead he stood rigid, staring. His eyes that could say everything she wanted to hear said nothing.
She thought maybe something crossed his face, a face she knew as well as her own, but it was swiftly covered and replaced by confusion. Then betrayal. Even anger. She imagined he was able to bring suspects to their knees with that look.
“How—” He stopped, gathered himself, because Nick was nothing if not all gathered together. “What are you doing here?”
“Mia’s a psychiatrist now,” Hannah answered before Mia could. “And my friend.”
Nick didn’t move for the longest time, and she tried to breathe through the shock of it, seeing him and hearing him. More ripples. She swallowed.
“You’re her doctor?” His voice was low, his eyes dark and fierce, potent as they had always been. Eyes that could warm and comfort or cut like ice. She knew both.
She barely managed to speak. “Not her doctor exactly. I’m a therapist.”
“How did this happen? She could have been in a serious car accident,” he said, turning on her. “She could have been killed!”
The questions and accusations cut through her before she had a chance to say more. He didn’t look like he wanted to hear it. Still looking for somewhere to lay blame. Still finding her an easy target. But he was afraid, she could see that. Fear, the loss of control, never brought out the best in Nick.
“Nick.” Hannah sat up straighter, reaching for his arm. “Stop it.”
She should go, but before she moved, two more men entered the room. They had the same brown eyes and dark hair. Zach and Luke. Probably not the hospital scene they’d expected. Mia barely had time to see the men she’d once thought of as brothers before Nick went on. Ignoring his brothers, he focused solely on his sister. That hadn’t changed.