Page 69 of Quadruplets for the Vipers

His words are so him, so Jace, that I laugh despite the fact there are tears in my eyes. “Don’t you forget it,” I say punching him playfully in his good arm.

I move over to Rider, a little more uncertain, he’s not a fan of physical contact. I needn’t have worried, he immediately pulls me into a tight embrace, kissing my forehead. “I’m so glad you’re okay, I’m sorry we couldn’t be there.”

“This one ripped his IV out and tried to leave. By that point you were already at the cop shop, so I managed to talk him out of it,” Jace tells me.

“I know all of you would have been there if you could. You had no way of knowing that Tony had found us, that I was in danger at all. You did the right thing staying to protect Axel. If you hadn’t been there…” My voice trails off, there’s no need for me to say the words. If Axel had raced Lucifer alone, when he crashed his men would likely have killed him.

I don’t want to be some damsel in distress. If my life had been put first and one of them had died, I’d have never forgiven myself. Or them.

“Where is he?”

There’s no need to say who I mean. The others lead the way to Axel’s room. I let out a small cry of anguish when I see him. He looks so small, so vulnerable in the bed, hooked up to machines. They have shaved his long, thick hair leaving his scalp exposed, most of his body is bandaged, his arm, shoulder, and a leg in plaster cast. I’ve no doubt that he’s lucky to be alive.

I move over to his side, taking his big, limp hand in mine. I squeeze it but he doesn’t squeeze back. I stroke his cheek gently, unable to hold back my tears.

“You come back to us soon, Axel, okay? We need you, I need you, these babies need you. Don’t you dare quit on us, youhear me?” I lean close to kiss his cheek. “I love you,” I whisper into his ear, hoping that, wherever he might be, he can hear me.

***

One Week Later

The soft beep of monitors is the only constant sound in the quiet hospital room. It’s become a strange kind of comfort, that rhythm, steady and calm. I sit by Axel’s bed, my hand curled gently around his. His skin is warm, but unmoving.

A week ago, I thought we might lose everything. We didn’t. Not entirely. The babies are healthy. That’s a miracle all on its own. My last checkup showed they’re developing normally, their tiny hearts strong and beating. Despite everything, they’re thriving.

Axel… not yet.

His sedation was stopped two days ago. Now it’s just a waiting game. The doctors are cautiously optimistic, but that only helps so much. I know the statistics. I’ve read everything I can about comas, waking up, what it means, what it doesn’t. I just wanthimback.

The door creaks quietly as Knox enters, followed by Rider and Jace. All three look tired, like they’ve lived a hundred lives this past week. Jace’s arm is still bandaged, Rider has a fresh scar above his eyebrow. But they’re alive. And they’re here.

“Hey,” I say softly.

They offer tired smiles and file in, taking their usual spots. Jace drops into the chair beside me and steals one of thehospital jelly cups off the side tray. He’s the only one who can make this place feel a little lighter.

“You holding up?” Knox asks, crouching beside me. He puts a hand on my thigh, squeezing gently.

I nod weakly. “Trying to.”

“Surprised you can sleep on the hospital cot” Jace mutters through a mouthful of green jelly. “Those things are sadistic.”

A weak smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. The guys all wanted to take turns staying with Axel, but I insisted. I lean my head briefly against Knox’s shoulder.

“Doctor said it could happen anytime now,” I whisper. “He’s breathing on his own. No complications. But… it’s Axel. He’s strong. I just—I don’t know what we’ll do if he doesn’t come back.”

“He’ll come back,” Rider says, voice hoarse but steady.

“I want to believe that.”

“You don’t have to believe it,” Jace says. “Just know it. He’s too damn stubborn to check out now. And he promised you, remember? He never breaks a promise.”

Knox stands, placing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “If he can fight off Lucifer and a bike crash at full speed, he can fight his way back to us.”

They try to sound confident, but I can hear the cracks. We’re all holding on by threads. The club is holding strong, the cleanup continues, but this—Axel—is what we orbit. Without him, nothing feels solid.

Rider walks to the window and stares out at the morning light. “You should rest, Leah. Let us take over for a bit.”

“I can’t,” I say, eyes still on Axel’s face. “I might miss it.”

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