And that haunts me.
"Where is he?" I ask.
Silence. Nothing. Not one of these hardened criminals can tell me where he is.
"Goddammit.Tell me."
Gianna looks directly at Hunter, who lifts his head. His eyes are bloodshot.
My hands shake first. It travels up my arms until my entire body is vibrating with fear and dread.
Hunter takes off his hat, holding it against his chest.
"The doctors have done everything they can for him, Harper. They’ve induced a coma. We just have to wait."
A coma.
Everything they can.
The look on their faces. They don't think he can fight this.
"No." All the air leaves my lungs.
I don't cry. I don't move. I can't even blink.
"Where is he? Take me to him. Now," I say blankly.
Gianna steps beside me. "Harper, he isn't in a good way. Are you sure you want to see him like this?"
I nod. I don't hesitate.
"He needs me."
The drive is silent.
Gianna's private hospital isn't a hospital at all; it's a wing of a gated estate in the hills. That’s where I’ve been. But, Ace had to be taken to a real hospital, one Gianna’s family still has control over, so we’re safe. I guess. Dom pushes me in a wheelchair I didn't ask for and don't fight, because my legs gave out twice getting to the car, and I'm done pretending.
The hallway outside his room is long and white. The Sterlings line it like statues. Jett's flamingo shirt is gone, he's in black, hat in his hands, and when I pass him, he reaches out and squeezes my shoulder and says nothing, because there's nothing to say anymore.
Colten stands closest to the door. There's blood on his sleeves. He looks at me, and his jaw works like he's trying to build a sentence but just can’t do it.
"He kept asking for you," he finally says. "Right up until he went under. He wanted you to know how much he loved you."
Something in my chest tears loose when he pauses to take a breath. His hand lands on my shoulder, his glassy eyes lock on mine.
“If anyone can bring my little brother back, it’s you.”
Hunter opens the door for me. "Take all the time you need. We ain't going anywhere."
None of them are. I understand that now. They will stand in this hallway all night. All week. However long it takes. That's what this family is.
I stand up out of the wheelchair on my own, because I am walking into that room on my own two feet, and I go in.
The door clicks shut behind me.
And there he is.
Ace Sterling. The biggest, loudest, most alive man I've ever known, reduced to a body in a bed. Machines on both sides of him, a tube coming from his mouth, breathing for him, beeping for him, doing all the things he's too broken to do himself. His face is swollen, and his shoulder is wrapped and braced.
