“I know, baby. I know.” His scarred hands reach for me, hesitant, like he’s afraid I’ll shatter if he touches me. “The explosion... it pinned me, but it also dislodged the beam. Knocked me unconscious. When I came to, I was... I didn’t know who I was. I was waist-deep in water. I didn’t know any-fuckin’-thing.” He takes a breath, then continues, “Somehow I clawedmy way out, my skin was raw, I had internal bleeding from the beam… I… I thought I was dead, or at least I was gonna be soon.”
Behind me, I hear Ingrid let out a sob. Bayou makes a sound like he’s been punched in the gut.
But I can’t look away from Hurricane.
From this broken, scarred version of the man I loved. From this miracle, I don’t understand.
“H-How?” The word is barely audible.
“A nurse found me wandering the streets,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Carol. She took me to the hospital and helped me through recovery, which was long. I was there for months, Sha. In ICU for fuck knows how long. I was out of it, intubated and sedated. I had nothing… no ID, no memory, no way to tell anyone who I was. The burns... they were so bad, Kaia. My clothes were destroyed, and my patch was gone. There was nothing left to identify me. I had surgeries for wound debridement and skin grafts, and the whole fuckin’ time I had no clue who the hell I was, or what the fuck happened.”
“Over a year!” I choke out. “You’ve been alive for over awhole fuckingyear,and we thought you were dead!”
“I didn’t know,” he says urgently, his hands finally making contact with my arms, grounding and real andalive. “I swear to God, baby, I didn’t know. I couldn’t remember anythin’. Not you, not Immy, not the club. Nothin’. I got a job washin’ dishes at a restaurant because I needed money for the medical bills, and Carol was helpin’ me try to remember, but there was just... nothin’.”
My hands move of their own accord, reaching up to touch his face, my fingers trembling as they trace the scarred tissue. He flinches at first, then leans into my touch like a man starving for connection.
“What changed?” I ask through my tears. “H-how did you remember?”
His jaw clenches, and I see the muscle jump beneath the damaged skin. “Three nights ago. I was workin’, and one of the waitpeople was bein’ assaulted by a customer. I stepped in to help, and got into a fight. The fucker punched me, hard enough that I hit the pavement.” He swallows hard. “When I hit the ground, it was like... like a dam breakin’. Everythin’ came floodin’ back all at once. You. Immy. The twins I never got to meet. My brothers. The club. All of it, just... there. Like a fuckin’ miracle I’ve been waitin’ for.”
“You remembered,” I breathe.
“I remembered,” he confirms, tears streaming down his scarred face. “And the first thing I thought was that I had to get home. I had to get back to you, to our children, to my family. Carol helped me. She’s out front, actually. She wouldn’t let me come alone.”
“The twins,” I say suddenly, my hands gripping his arms. “Hurricane, you have a son and a daughter. Lynx and Katrina. They’re one year old today. This is their birthday party.”
His face crumples, and a sound tears from his throat that’s half sob, half laugh. “I have a son,” he says in wonder.
“You do,” I say, fresh tears streaming down my face. “I went into labor at your funeral. Lynx and Katrina… they’re beautiful, Hurricane. They’re so beautiful, and they have your eyes, and they’rehereand you’rehereand—”
I can’t finish the sentence because he pulls me into his arms, crushing me against his chest, and I’m sobbing so hard I can barely breathe. His whole body shakes with the force of his own tears, and I feel wetness against my neck where his face is buried.
“I’m sorry,” he keeps saying, over and over like a prayer. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Kaia. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone. I’m sorry I missed meetin’ them. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorry.”
“You’re alive!” I gasp against his chest, my fingers clawing at his shirt like I’m afraid he’ll disappear again if I don’t hold on tight enough. “You’re alive, you’re alive, you’realive.”
Around us, I can hear voices. Bayou is openly sobbing, his twin returned from the dead. Ingrid is crying and laughing at the same time, her maternal heart shattered and healed in the same impossible moment. City is on the phone, calling the other chapters, his voice breaking as he delivers the impossible news.
But all I can focus on is the solid weight of my husband in my arms, the steady thump of his heart against my cheek, the realness of him after a year of nothing but dreams and memories.
Movement from behind me catches my attention, and I turn to see Immy, tears teeming with fear in her eyes. “Daddy?”
The small, uncertain voice cuts through everything like a knife.
We both freeze. Immy stands in the doorway, her cherry-painted face streaked with confusion. She’s holding Lani’s hand, but she’s staring at Hurricane with those ice-blue eyes that arehiseyes, her little face scrunched up as she tries to make sense of what she’s seeing.
Hurricane slowly releases me, turning toward our daughter with a look of such raw pain and love that it physically hurts to witness.
“Little chéri,”he whispers, his voice breaking on the nickname.
Immy takes a step back, pressing into Lani’s leg. “You’re scary,” she says, her eyes on his scars. “You don’t look like my daddy.”
I see something die in Hurricane’s eyes, see him start to pull back, to accept that his daughter is afraid of him. But then an older woman I don’t recognize steps through the gate, Carol, Irealize, the nurse who saved him, and she kneels beside Immy with a warm, gentle smile.
“Hi there, sweetheart,” Carol says softly. “I’m Carol. I’ve been taking care of your daddy while he was sick. I know he looks different now, but he’s still the same man underneath. He has some scars on the outside, but inside?” She places her hand over her heart. “Inside, his heart isexactlythe same. And all he’s wanted, from the very first moment he remembered who he was, was to come home toyou.”
Immy looks up at Carol, then back at Hurricane.“Really?”
