Four hours later, I’m standing outside Savvy’s hospital room, attempting to ground myself so I don’t walk in a complete and utter mess, but the usual tactics are failing me.
Hospitals smell like antiseptic and fear. The fluorescent lights are too bright. Too many people in too-small spaces. My skin feels like it’s trying to crawl right off my body.
“You don’t have to go in,” Valen says. He’s my shadow these days, and sometimes he’s the only thing that keeps me vertical. Almost as though he’s slowly restoring my confidence, my strength with each innocent touch. “We can come back another time.”
“No.” I unclench my hands. “She asked for me, and I’m here.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t move. Doesn’t push. Just exists next to me like a wall I can lean on if I need to. “I’m right here.”
If only he knew my body developed Valen-radar early. I feel him in the tank. I know when he’s on the front porch. My skin prickles when he enters a room.
The door opens, and Grey appears—looking exhausted and relieved and devastatingly in love all at once. “She’s ready for you, but you only have five minutes.” His face drops. “She’s stillweak, okay? And I’m fucking terrified. She always pushes too hard.”
I nod into Grey’s chest as I hug him.
Valen squeezes my shoulder, then steps aside for me to enter Savvy’s room.
Savvy is so tiny in the hospital bed. Bruised. Bandaged. But her eyes are open and bright and so completely her that I press my hand to my mouth to keep from sobbing.
“Stop staring at me like I’m going to die,” she says, her voice raspy but firm. “I’m fine. I’m going to be fine.”
“You were in a coma,” I manage.
“Details.” She waves a hand weakly in the air. “Now, are you going to tell me who that new bodyguard out there is, or do I have to guess?”
I feel heat rise high on my cheeks. “It’s…Valen.”
“The childhood ghost has come to life,” Savvy says, staring at him through the glass in her door with surprising sharpness for someone who was recently in a coma.
She turns back to me. “Madi filled me in. The packages. The stalker. All of it.” Her expression hardens—this version of her is the person who never let anyone fuck with me, who held my hand when the power went out, who dragged me from my bed when all I wanted to do was lie there.
“Roman confirmed that your ex isn’t Clover’s stalker,” Grey says, frustration weaving around his words.
“Then who?” Savvy asks.
Grey shakes his head. “Later, Sav. Right now, you need to rest.”
“I’ve been resting for weeks, Greyson.”
“Doctor’s orders.” He’s gentle but firm. “You’ve got five minutes, that’s it.”
Savvy huffs, but I know she’s seeing the same dark circles and fear etched in Greyson’s face that I see, and she lets it go.“Fine. But Clover?” She catches my hand. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She eyes Valen with suspicion. “I love you.”
Her lashes flutter closed.
“She’s recovering,” Grey explains.
Leaning in to hug my friend, I say a silent prayer that this is the last hospital bed we’ll see for a while.
We makeit back to my house just as the sun is setting, and it’s absolute chaos.
While we were at the hospital, the Harringtons decided to throw an impromptu welcome party on my front lawn.
There’s a grill I don’t own. Folding chairs that aren’t mine. A cooler full of beer. Chief holding court in the middle of it all as if he’s been best friends with these people for years, not hours.
“What,” Valen asks slowly, “is happening?”
“Party!” Chase calls out, flipping burgers at the grill. “We figured since we were all here, we might as well get to know the neighbors.”
