Chapter 234

Olivia forced a sharp intake of air, burying the impulse down deep. Not here. Not yet.

“I’m going to go see him,” Olivia whispered, her voice fragile.

Patricia gave a stiff, reluctant nod. “You need to make this right.”

Olivia turned toward the door, her features immediately contorting into a picture of utter heartbreak.

She pushed the door open.

The low hum of the heart monitor filled the room. Blair looked up immediately, her hand still resting over Lucas’s fingers. Their eyes locked across the small space.

Neither spoke a word.

Olivia glided straight to the edge of the bed. “Lucas... Jesus , my love.”

Blair instinctively pulled her hands back, stepping half a pace away from the railing.

Olivia slipped right into the open space, taking Lucas’s cold fingers into her own and lifting them to her wet cheek. “I’m so sorry,” she wept, leaning close to his shoulder. “I was so terrified the moment I heard...”

Lucas lay weak against the pillows, his heavy eyelids fluttering as he looked up at her, too drained to process the sudden shift in the room.

Behind them, Patricia stood by the doorway, watching in cold silence. Blair stood back near the window, her hands folded tightly in front of her ruined dress.

Olivia closed her eyes, resting her forehead against Lucas's hand.

Beneath the wet tears and the trembling breath, her lips twitched with the faintest, unseen smile.

You think you’ve won him, Blair? she thought into the quiet of the room. You haven't seen anything yet.

2 surgeries later ~~~

Olivia sat up in the hard plastic chair next to the bed,her hands wrapped around Lucas’s cold fingers.

Every couple of minutes, she’d drop her head and wipe at her cheeks with a crumpled tissue. If you glanced in from the hallway, it was a picture-perfect scene: the devoted wife, completely wrecked, terrified she was going to lose her husband.

“Lucas…” she murmured, her voice doing that little tremble. She ran her thumb over the back of his knuckles. “You scared me so bad.”

Lucas was out cold against the pillows, looking ghostly under those terrible fluorescent lights. Surgery went fine, but the heavy pain meds kept pulling him under. Every time he managed to pry his eyes open, the sedatives dragged them right back down a few seconds later.

He didn't notice how carefully she timed every single tear. He didn't see the way her eyes kept darting toward the corner of the room whenever she thought nobody was looking.

Blair was standing by the window, totally rigid.

Out in the dark, the city lights blurred against the glass, but she wasn't looking at the view. Her brain was just replaying the same five seconds on an endless loop.

That awful, deafening crack.

The sheer weight of him slamming into her as they hit the floor together.

And the blood. So much warm, dark blood soaking straight through her dress.

Blair swallowed hard, her chest aching. Why? Why would he do something so stupid?

Across the room, Mave had finally cried himself to sleep, his small head heavy against Patricia’s shoulder.

Patricia looked down at her grandson, then glanced up at Blair. Her voice was surprisingly quiet when she finally broke the silence. “You should head home, Blair.”

Blair blinked, jolted out of her head. “What?”

“You need some sleep,” Patricia said, pulling the coat a little higher over Mave's back. “You’ve been standing there on your feet all night.”

Blair’s eyes darted straight back to the bed. Lucas looked so pale.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered.

Patricia just looked at her for a long, heavy moment. The sharp, judgmental wall the older woman usually kept up seemed to crack just a tiny bit.

“Stay a little longer, then,” Patricia said softly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Olivia stood up, smoothing out the front of her dress. “I’m going to go see if I can find his doctor.”

Patricia gave her a brief nod. Olivia squeezed Lucas’s limp hand one last time before slipping out into the hall, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.

The room went dead quiet, except for the steady, hollow beep... beep... of the monitor.

Then, Lucas shifted on the mattress.

Patricia sat up instantly. “Lucas?”

His eyes opened—slowly this time, but they stayed open. He blinked against the harsh lights, his gaze wandering around the room like he was trying to figure out where the hell he was.

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” Patricia asked, leaning in close.

Lucas tried to swallow, but his throat was bone-dry. Everything in his ribs throbbed with a deep, nauseating ache.

But he ignored all of it, his unfocused eyes scanning the room until they finally landed on the shadow by the window.

“Where’s… Blair?” he rasped.

The room completely ran out of air.

Patricia froze, her mouth slightly open.

Blair slowly turned around.

He was looking right at her, his eyes softening the second they locked onto hers.

Blair felt her chest twist so hard it physically hurt to breathe.

Blair didn’t even think. The second Lucas’s eyes landed on her, she moved.

She crossed the room so fast that Patricia barely had time to pull her chair back.

“Lucas…”

He tried to push himself up against the pillows, wincing as a sharp, nasty jab caught him straight in the ribs.

“Hey, careful!” Blair gasped, her hands instantly hovering over him.

He didn't listen. He just opened his arms.

Blair hesitated for a split second, terrified of hurting him, before leaning down into his space. Lucas wrapped his arms around her—, gentle, like he was afraid she’d shatter or vanish into thin air if he squeezed too hard.

He closed his eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath against her neck. “Thank God,” he murmured, his voice thick.

Blair’s breath caught in her throat.

Lucas pulled back just enough to look at her, his right hand coming up slowly. His knuckles were pale, his fingers trembling as he brushed them across her cheek. His eyes swept over her forehead, her neck, her shoulders checking every single inch of her he could see.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice rough.

Blair shook her head. “No.”

“Anywhere?”

“No, Lucas. I’m fine.”

His fingertips lingered on her skin. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He searched her eyes, desperate for the truth. “Nothing? You’re not hiding anything?”

“Nothing. I promise.”

Lucas exhaled, a ragged sound. “Good.”

His thumb slid beneath her eye, catching a tear before it could spill over. “I thought…” He stopped, his jaw tightening so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. “I thought that bullet was going to hit you.”

Fresh tears pooled in Blair’s eyes. “You scared the hell out of me, Lucas.”

“I know.”

“You almost died!”

“I know.”

“And you still did it!”

” His voice dropped to a hollow whisper. “I didn’t think. I couldn’t think. I just had to get to you.”

Blair’s lips trembled, a sob threatening to burst out of her chest.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek again, his touch soft against her flushed skin. “You’re okay,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “You’re really okay.”

“I’m okay,” she choked out.

Lucas finally let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding since the ballroom. “Good.”

He leaned forward, gently resting his forehead against hers. Neither of them said a word.

A quiet clearing of a throat shattered the moment.

Blair pulled back instantly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Patricia was sitting nearby, watching them with a look that was completely giving her expression away . Her eyes flashed  toward the night-shift nurse standing near the door, giving her a sharp, silent signal.

The nurse took the cue and stepped up to the bed with a sympathetic smile. “Alright, Mr. Brooks. You need to settle down and rest.”

Lucas’s brows pulled together in an instant frown. “I’m fine.”

“You just came out of heavy surgery,” the nurse said, reaching over to adjust his elevated headrest. “You can’t be exerting yourself like this.”

“I’ll rest in a minute.”

“No,” the nurse said, firm but kind, gently guiding his shoulders back down. “You’re resting right now.”

Despite herself, Blair let out a tiny, wet laugh.

Lucas reluctantly sank back into the mattress, but his eyes never strayed from Blair’s face. He looked over at his mother and sleeping mave , then back at Blair, his hand sliding across the sheet to find hers.

His fingers locked around hers instantly.

He looked down at their joined hands, then up into her eyes, his heavy lids already starting to fight the sedatives pulling him back under.

“Don’t go,” he rasped. “Please.”