I do, and everything else disappears.
Autumn.
She’s sitting in the chair beside the bed, wrapped in that soft cream sweater she loves, the one that makes her look like something I’m scared to touch in case I break it. Brown waves messy, eyes red-rimmed, a small cut healing on her cheek, bruises blooming along her jaw like ugly fingerprints. Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying non-stop.
My heart slams against the monitors. Doyle’s voice slithers back in: I fucked her like she wanted.
The machines screech.
Autumn shoots to her feet. “Nurse—”
Declan is already there, leaning over me, voice low and fierce inmy ear.
“He never touched her, brother. Not like that.”
The beeping slows.
Autumn hovers, worry creasing her brow. “What did you say?”
Declan straightens, casual. “Just something he needed to hear. I’ll go find the doc.”
He slips out, door clicking shut behind him.
Silence.
She climbs onto the bed carefully, like I’m made of glass, and lays her head on my chest right over the bandage. The second her warmth seeps through the gown, she breaks.
Hard, wrenching sobs that shake her whole body and soak straight through to my skin.
I lift my good arm, slow, aching, and settle my hand in her hair.
“Hey, trouble,” I whisper, voice gravel and smoke. “Look at me.”
She shakes her head against my ribs, fingers clutching my gown like she’s scared I’ll vanish.
“Okay,” I breathe, stroking those soft waves, over and over. “Let it out, baby. I’ve got you.”
She cries harder.
“I’m here,” I murmur into her hair. “I will always be here. Always.” And for the first time since I kicked that door down, I let myself believe we actually made it to the other side.
“I thought I lost you,” she whispers, lifting her tear-streaked face to mine.
I lean in, press my lips to her forehead. “I thought the same about you.”
The words crack something open inside my chest. A single tear slips free, hot against my skin. First one since I was a kid too small to fight back.
“Flynn…” Her voice breaks on my name.
She shifts closer, careful of the tubes and bandages. Her eyes stop at my chest tattoos.
“Flynn.” She whispers, and more tears fall down her cheeks. Her fingers brush over the Celtic tattoo, her name on my heart.
“You will always be with me.” I whisper. She looks up at me, and her mouth finds mine. Soft at first, trembling, tasting salt and hospital antiseptic, then deeper, desperate, like she’s trying to crawl inside me and never leave.
I kiss her back the same way, hand sliding into her hair, anchoring her to me.
“Tell me you’ll stay,” I breathe against her lips, raw, terrified it’s still a dream.
