Page 142 of Almost Ours
Tears blurred my vision again as I took in the people around me–the ones who had stayed, who had shown up when I needed them most. Even everything, they were here. I felt an overwhelming sense of love and safety.
As they filtered out, Ryan leaned over, watching them go. A smirk tugged at his lips. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen Shane kiss someone on the head.”
A soft laugh bubbled out of me, surprising even myself. “Guess I’m special.”
Ryan settled back into the chair beside my bed, his eyes warm as they met mine.
“Always have been.”
The quiet settled around us again, the steady beep of the monitors the only sound in the room. I let my head sink into the pillow, exhaustion tugging at me, but curiosity gnawed at the edges of my mind. “Ryan,” I murmured, turning my head toward him. “What… what happened? With Reid?”
His expression darkened, jaw tightening. Before he could answer, the door swung open, and a doctor walked in–clipboard in hand, offering a polite smile as he approached.
“Good to see you awake, Harper,” he said, his voice warm but professional. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” I admitted, shifting slightly and wincing at the dull throb in my shoulder. “But… okay, I think.”
He nodded, scanning his notes. “You’re lucky. The bullet went clean through your shoulder, missing any major nerves or blood vessels. You were in surgery for a couple of hours to repair the damage, but you’re going to be just fine.”
I tried to shift against the pillows, a sharp ache slicing through my ribs. A hiss escaped before I could stop it. Thedoctor glanced up but didn’t comment, his gaze dipping back to the chart. My whole body throbbed—my eye swollen so tight it barely opened, the skin along my temple burned where the bandage met it, and when I caught a glimpse of dried blood in my hair, my stomach turned.
A shaky breath left me as relief still managed to flooded in, loosening the knot of anxiety in my chest. I was alive. Somehow, we both were.
“You’ll need to keep your arm in a sling for a few weeks and follow up with some physical therapy, but the prognosis is excellent,” he continued, then glanced up from his chart. “You also have a few other injuries we’re monitoring. Your ribs are badly bruised—it’ll hurt to breathe and move for a while. Try holding a pillow between your ribs and the sling to help support that side. The ribs will likely take a bit longer to heal than your shoulder, but you should start feeling better in about a month.”
He flipped a page on the chart. “You’ve also got a few stitches above your temple, but no concerning head trauma. You can come back in about a week to have those removed—” His gaze flicked toward Ryan, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You can come together, actually. Looks like your friend here could use a follow-up too.”
I frowned, turning toward Ryan to actually get a good look at him. That’s when I noticed them—two small stitches just above his eyebrow, the skin around them faintly bruised. A shadow of a smile touched his lips, like he knew exactly what I was seeing.
I swallowed hard, blinking away the sting of fresh tears, and turning my gaze back to the attending. “Thank you, Doctor.”
He gave me a small nod. “Of course. I’ll be back to check on you later.”
As the door clicked shut behind him, I turned back to Ryan. “Now tell me,” I pressed, my voice stronger this time.
Ryan let out a slow breath, raking a hand through his messy hair. His eyes met mine, heavy with something unreadable. “The cops caught him,” he said carefully. “He was driving drunk when they pulled him over. They charged him with a DUI, attempted murder… and a long list of other things.”
A shiver ran down my spine, but I stayed silent, letting him continue.
“They assured me there’s no way he’s getting out of this, Harper,” Ryan said, his voice tight with conviction. “They’ll be in touch with you about the case, but they told me not to worry.” He squeezed my hand. “He’s not going anywhere.”
I stared at him, my thoughts spinning. Relief and fear tangled inside me, a war of emotions I couldn’t fully process yet. My brain understood what he was saying–I was safe. But my body didn’t.
My breath hitched, my fingers twitching slightly in his grasp. A shiver ran through me, my muscles stiffening as if bracing for something–another blow, another night. My heart pounded against my ribs, too fast, too loud.
Ryan leaned closer, his voice softer now. “He’s gone.” His hands smoothed over mine, steady, warm, real. “You’re safe.”
I wanted to believe him. I did. Safety wasn’t a switch I could flip, though. The ghost of Reid’s presence still lingered in my bones, in the phantom pain of his grip on my arm, in the gunshot echoing in my mind.
Tears burned my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them. My fingers curled around Ryan’s like a lifeline. I swallowed hard. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
Ryan’s brow furrowed, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. “For what?”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “For everything. For saving me.”
His jaw tensed. A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes–guilt, doubt–before he shook his head. His thumb brushed absently over the back of my hand, his gaze dropping for a brief moment. Then, his expression softened, and without hesitation, he lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to my knuckles. “I’d do it a million times over, Harper.”
I jolted awake,gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs. Sweat clung to me like a second skin, my throat dry, my breathing ragged. The room was dark, the steady hum of the fan the only sound. My eyes darted to my right, where Harper lay beside me, her face soft in sleep.
