Inside, the stillness of my apartment feels eerie after the constant noise and activity of the hospital.I move through the rooms on autopilot: strip off yesterday’s clothes, turn the shower to as hot as I can stand, stand under the spray until the water begins to cool.
Clean clothes feel like a luxury.I pull on jeans and a sweater, the soft fabric a comfort against my skin.In the kitchen, I force myself to eat toast, an apple, and a protein bar, knowing my body needs fuel even if food tastes like cardboard.
The entire time, my mind remains with Zach.Every minute away feels like a betrayal, though the rational part of me knows this break is necessary.I check my phone obsessively, though I know Shaylin would call immediately if anything changed.
“Ready to go back?”Butcher asks when he sees me hovering toward the door.
* * *
We walkinto the hospital together, an unlikely pair united by our concern for the man lying upstairs.
In the ICU, we find Shaylin exactly where I left her, her hand covering Zach’s, her lips moving in what might be a prayer.She looks up as we enter, a smile breaking across her tired face.
“His fingers moved,” she says without preamble.“Just a twitch, but the nurse said it’s a good sign.The sedation is wearing off.”
I move to the bed, hope surging through me as I take Zach’s other hand.“Hey,” I say softly, squeezing gently.“I’m back.Just like I promised.”
For a moment, there’s no response.Then, so slightly I might have imagined it, his fingers curl around mine.
“Did you feel that?”Shaylin whispers, her voice tight with emotion.
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.I squeeze again, and this time the response is unmistakable, a definite pressure against my palm.
“Zach?”I lean closer, my free hand moving to cup his face.“If you can hear me, squeeze my hand again.”
The seconds stretch into eternity as we wait.Then his fingers tighten around mine, the pressure weak but deliberate.
“That’s it,” I encourage, my voice breaking.“That’s perfect.You’re doing so well.”
His eyelids flutter, a slight movement that sends my heart racing.I glance at the monitors.His heart rate has increased slightly, his oxygen levels holding steady.
“Zach, honey,” Shaylin says, her own voice wavering.“We’re here.Me and your dad and Xavier.We’re all here.”
Another squeeze, stronger this time.His eyelids flutter again, and this time they open just a sliver, but enough to reveal a glimpse of the warm brown eyes I’ve been desperate to see.
“Hey,” I whisper, smiling through tears I didn’t realize were falling.“Welcome back.”
He blinks slowly, confusion evident in his gaze as he tries to focus.Recognition dawns gradually, his eyes moving from me to his mother, then back again.
His lips part, but no sound emerges.I reach for the cup of ice chips the nurse left earlier, offering him one.“Slow,” I caution as he accepts it.“Your throat’s going to be sore from the tube.”
He swallows with visible effort, wincing slightly.When he speaks, his voice is a raspy whisper, barely audible over the beeping monitors.“You okay?”
The question is so typically Zach, concerned for others even when he’s the one in a hospital bed, and it nearly undoes me completely.A laugh escapes me, half sob and half relief.“I’m fine,” I assure him, brushing his hair back from his forehead.“Everyone’s fine.You’re the one we’ve been worried about.”
Confusion clouds his expression again.“What happened?”
I exchange a glance with Shaylin, uncertain how much to tell him in his fragile state.“You were shot,” I say carefully.“During the attack on the clubhouse.Do you remember?”
He frowns, eyes closing briefly as if searching for the memory.“Riggs,” he whispers finally.“Is he…”
“Dead,” Butcher confirms, moving closer to the bed.“You got him, son.The Reapers are scattered.Grey’s handling it.”
Relief softens Zach’s features.His gaze returns to me, eyes more alert now despite the pain medication I know is coursing through his system.“You stayed.”His fingers tighten around mine again.
“Of course I stayed,” I reply, the words catching in my throat.“Where else would I be?”
A ghost of his familiar half smile touches his lips.“Told you,” he whispers, eyes drifting toward his mother.“He’s mine.”
