Page 72 of After the Chase

"He's still in surgery, he might not make it," I manage.

"I know, Ivan messaged me."

"You know why this happened? Because of the clubhouse?"

"Yeah, I had Marcus’ men look into it. Nobody knew he was part of that gang."

His voice is so calm, like he's discussing the weather instead of my brother's life hanging in the balance. I pull back, looking up at him, but before I can speak, the doors to the surgical wing open. A doctor in scrubs approaches, her expression grave.

"Family of Tyler Blackford?"

Ivan and I both step forward and Noah stays behind me, a silent presence of support.

"I'm his brother," I say. "This is his partner, Ivan. How is he?"

The doctor's expression gives nothing away. "Tyler sustained multiple injuries in the collision. Three fractured ribs, a fractured pelvis, a compound fracture of his left femur, and significant internal bleeding. We've managed to stabilize him and repair the internal damage, but the next 48 hours are critical."

"Is he going to survive?" Ivan's voice is steady, but I can hear the strain beneath it.

"His condition is serious but stable. We're moving him to the ICU for monitoring. He's sedated and on a ventilator. You can see him briefly, but he won't be conscious."

"Can we see him now?" I ask.

"Give us twenty minutes to get him settled and a nurse will come get you."

She leaves and Ivan immediately pulls out his phone again, stepping away to make another call.

I turn to Noah and he looks at me like he is looking through glass. It scares me.

"You already know who did this," I say quietly.

"We have a name."

"What are you going to do?"

Noah's expression doesn't change. "What needs to be done. Ivan and I are handling it, you stay here with Tyler. Simon will be here soon to keep an eye out."

"I want to help."

"No." He cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. "Your role right now is here with your brother. Let me handle the rest."

I want to argue. Want to insist that I'm part of this, that I should be involved. But looking into Noah's eyes, I see the truth, this isn't my world, not this part anyway. Right now, I'm just a brother whose sibling is fighting for his life.

"Promise me you'll be careful," I whisper.

"I'm always careful."

"Promise me."

"I'll come back." He kisses my lips firmly, then he's gone, moving toward Ivan. They speak in low voices, their expressions cold and focused. Planning.

A nurse appears. "You can see Tyler now."

I follow her through the doors, down a sterile hallway, into the ICU. Tyler is in the third room, surrounded by machines thatbeep and hiss. He looks so small in the hospital bed, his face pale, tubes and wires everywhere. I sink into the chair beside his bed and take his hand carefully, mindful of the IV.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper. "Tyler, I'm so sorry."

He doesn't respond because he can’t. The only noise in the room is the ventilator that breathes for him, steady and mechanical, and the heart monitor with the dull tones of his resting heartbeat.