Page 12

Chapter twelve

Ryder

Three months. Ninety damn days since that night, and I'm still haunted by what happened. It's been ninety days of visiting this hospital, sitting by her bedside, praying to whoever is listening that she will wake up. Ninety days of silence of not hearing her voice or seeing those beautiful eyes that both challenged me and enticed me from the moment I laid eyes on her at the rally.

I thought I knew what I wanted in life. I had my businesses, my friends, my freedom. But then she crashed into my world like a hurricane, upending everything I thought I knew. Ava Jade, a force of nature with her blonde hair and fierce independence.

Today is the day we hear the results from the last surgery, her third one in just as many months. We will finally get a timeline of when she is going to wake up, when I'll see those warm brown eyes again.

The guilt gnaws at me constantly as I've been holding off on letting anyone tell August what happened to his sister. My old friend has enough on his plate right now. I need him to focus on recovering without the added weight of knowing about Ava's condition. Sometimes I wonder if I'm making the right choice keeping this from him but protecting them both is all I can do right now.

The night we found her remains hazy in my memory. I experienced my first-ever complete mental blackout. As it happens, believing she was on the brink of death triggered such a severe panic attack that I lost consciousness. According to the doctor, fainting from panic attacks isn't common. My condition was likel y made worse by the fact that I'd gone without rest, food, or any fluids for far too long.

The door swings wide as Danie bursts in, radiating enthusiasm. She makes her way to where Ava lies. "This is it, beautiful. We're about to learn when you'll open those eyes." She sinks into the seat across from me, grasping Ava's hand.

Danie's stopped acknowledging my existence since discovering the truth about that night. That I’m the reason Ava ended up alone in that parking lot that night. That she thought I was with a sub, got mad and left.

Though it wasn't true, I have no way to tell Ava now, and Danie refuses to hear my side. She just dismisses me with a scoff and reminds me that everything traces back to me. In her words, Ava would never have set foot in that club if it wasn't for my lifestyle. She wouldn't have been vulnerable to Clint's attack in that deserted parking lot if she wasn’t there to see me.

She's not wrong, and I can't fault her for hating me. I hate myself more than she ever could. The guilt gnaws at me constantly, eating away at me every fucking day and night. But mark my words, Clint is the one who will ultimately pay for this. I'll make damn sure of that, even if it's the last thing I do. He'll learn exactly what happens when you hurt someone I love.

The nurse enters moments later, a plump woman in her fifties who sweetly addresses everyone as ‘sugar’. "The physician will see you both now in his office," she tells us, her tone carrying an unmistakable hint of sorrow. My stomach drops, knowing whatever update we're about to receive isn't going to be good.

I watch as Danie misses the nurse's somber undertone completely, jumps up eagerly and heads for the exit. When she realizes I haven't budged from my seat, she whirls around to face me. "Let's go Ryder," her voice dripping with that same hostile venom that I’ve grown accustomed to over the last few months when she does address me.

I rise and trail behind her toward Dr. Bronwell's office. These past three months have made me so familiar with the route, I can navigate it blindfolded. Danie reaches the entrance first, rapping on the wood and pushing it open when Dr. Bronwell calls out "Come in."

I step through the doorway into an office that feels worlds apart from the clinical hospital spaces. Warm gray walls create a welcoming atmosphere, while built-in shelving stretches across every surface, crammed with medical texts and thick binders. The back wall is nothing but windows, showing the view of t he city. Behind his massive oak desk, paperwork teeters in precarious stacks that seem ready to topple at any moment. A pair of plush armchairs face the desk, while a matching overstuffed, chocolate-colored sofa, occupies the far-right corner.

Dr. Bronwell, an older man in his mid-sixties sporting a clean-shaven head and black rimmed glasses, remains focused on a folder in his hands. As we make our entrance, he raises his gaze and offers his characteristic friendly grin, motioning toward the chairs in front of his desk. "Danie and Ryder, go ahead and sit down. Let me finish reviewing this final image from Ava’s latest scan this morning, and then we'll talk." Without waiting for our reply, his attention returns to the file.

After five minutes, Danie's restlessness becomes increasingly evident. She shifts her attention from idly picking at the hem of her black t-shirt to briskly brushing away imaginary lint from her bright yellow leggings. Finally, he clears his throat, signaling that he is ready to address us.

"Well, I have been over her scans multiple times now," Dr. Bronwell begins while removing his glasses and setting them on his desk. "The last surgery did its job exactly as we hoped it would. She no longer requires life support to breathe, which is a significant improvement from where we were last month. Unfortunately, she still hasn't shown any signs of regaining consciousness. I've consulted with several specialists, and her brain scans are all completely normal—no signs of trauma or damage. Her vitals are all good, strong even. Blood work comes back perfect. There is no medical reason we can find that would contribute to her current condition." He delivers this explanation with the weary tone of a man who wishes he had better news to share.

"She's bound to wake up. She just has to. Her condition's improving," Danie insists.

"Listen, you're right that Ava has made significant improvements compared to where we started a few months ago. We've resolved all her medical issues. But that doesn't guarantee she will wake up. We have to be realistic about the situation as it stands. She might regain consciousness tomorrow, a few months from now, or years down the line. There's also a possibility that she wont wake up at all. The ball's in her court now. Given these circumstances, we need to consider extended care options. The ICU isn't meant for indefinite stays. We'll have to find her a suitable facility for ongoing care. Take a look at these pamphlets," I watch him pass the materials to Danie. "Let's reconvene Thursday to discuss what you've decided."

I listen to Danie's quiet s obs next to me. The physician's words keep flowing, but I barely register them through the rage. We had optimism. Up until this moment, we'd clung to it. I clung to it. She was supposed to recover and open her eyes. That's what we'd been holding out for. For her body to mend itself completely. Instead, we're being told she's reached her limit. The recovery process is done. There is nothing else they can fucking do.

I abruptly stand up and leave the room. I can't bear to listen to the prognosis for Ava's recovery, or lack thereof. Danie can decide the next steps—I'm sure she'll choose the best place for Ava. Right now, I need to get out of here. I need to get to the Axiom office to see what progress we've made in locating Clint. I've been so wrapped up in Ava's recovery, barely leaving the hospital afraid I’d miss her waking up. It’s time for me to accept reality. That’s over. Now it's time to shift my focus to Clint and make him pay for what he's done to her.

I stop outside of the Axiom offices when I hear Keith yelling. "Ryder isn't the same fucking Ryder anymore. Ever since Ava's been in the hospital he has been a shell of the man we all know. He spends every fucking day just watching her. She’s in a fucking coma!! There’s a chance she might not come back from this."

I slam through the door to the office, my hands already balled into fists as I lunge forward and tackle Keith onto a desk before anyone in the room can even react. I use my forearm, pressing it hard against his throat, effectively cutting off his airway. I lean in close until our faces are nearly touching.

"Mention her name one more time,” there is so much pain and anger behind my words, I don’t even recognize my own voice. “And I swear, brother or not, I will fucking kill you. Are we clear?"

Keith, is in a state of shock, desperately trying to pull my arm off his windpipe.

"ARE WE FUCKING CLEAR?" I scream in his face as I apply more pressure to his neck, putting all my weight into it.

Keith jerks his chin in agr eement while Chase and Ethan latch onto my arms, trying to drag me away from him.

Keith starts coughing and trying to catch his breath. Fuck him.

"Get the hell off me!" I shake them off me.

"Dude, calm down, you almost just killed Keith. You didn't even listen to what he was saying before you attacked him." Ethan tries to reason with me. As he pushes me into one of the chairs away from Keith. "Just listen to what he has to say before you lash out like that. We aren’t the enemy, Ryder."

My words drip with sarcasm, "You're right, I will. Go on, Keith. Tell me how Ava being in that damn coma has fucked me up. Tell me how I have neglected my responsibilities here. How about you try watching the person you love, fight for their life after being attacked? After someone tried to kill them, leaving them to bleed out like they are nothing more than roadkill left on the side of the fucking road. How about you spend three goddamn months in a hospital room, hoping they'll wake up, only to be told, 'Sorry, that might never happen.' What would you do? Huh? Tell me that! All while knowing it’s you’re fucking fault they were in the situation in the first place and there's not a damn thing you can do to change any of it!"

I am out of breath by the time I finish, rage and grief tightening my chest as I think of the future we will never have. I’m shaking and I feel the tears rolling down my face.

Fuck now I’m losing it .

“I don’t know what to fucking do without her now. I need her to wake up. She has to.”

I look around at these men, my brothers watching me lose my shit. I see the looks of pity on all their faces. Keith is rubbing his neck looking at the floor. Chase walks over to me and puts an arm on my shoulder.

"We know this is hard on you. We are here for you. But you have become a shadow of the man you were. And when Ava does wake up, she is going to need you at your best. You want Clint to pay for what he did? That's what Keith talking about before you attacked him. He tracked down Clint's location. Keith has been working on a strategy to capture him. The issue is I need to extract our men and the soldiers from Russia immediately. Ivan's mental state is deteriorating beyond his usual instability. Whenever we hesitate to follow his orders, he swears he'll execute one of the soldiers. The last time we didn't do wha t he wanted, he blocked all supplies and medical resources from reaching the compound until we gave in to his demands." Chase is trying to reason with me.

He goes on, "The three of us—Keith, Ethan, and myself—can't handle everything alone. We're counting on you to manage the logistics. Getting our men back is crucial, but dealing with Clint remains a priority. The timing couldn't be worse, both situations need our immediate attention."

Still fighting a cough, Keith rasps out, "I understand how difficult this is for you. I was just trying to explain that we need to get Clint but we also need your help to pull everything off in order to make that happen. And Ava—" he raises his palm when I try to speak. "Is stable. She'll be fine while you help us with all the shit going on here. But you are not the same, like Chase said. We all understand why. But we need that Ryder to get this shit done. I will say I'm sorry for my lack of sensitivity to the situation. That's an area where I clearly need improvement, but don't ever attack me like that again. I love you like a brother, but I'm not going to put up with your shit like Chase does." With that, he stands and walks to the small kitchen we set up in the office to grab some water.

He is right, I am different. I know I need to get my shit together and be the person they need. I am out of line lashing out at him. God, I feel like such a dick.

"Keith I'm sorry."

"What do you want to tackle first? Taking care of Clint, or getting the guys out of Russia?" Chase asks. "It's up to you brother."

I consider our choices, "Let's prioritize extracting our people and the soldiers from Russia. Once they're safely back, we can find justification to void the agreement with Ivan. We need to protect Axiom’s reputation by avoiding a contract breach. Keith, assign surveillance on Clint around the clock. I'll handle his situation after we wrap up our Russian problem. Let's get our guys home."

We spent close to a week finalizing every aspect of the rescue operation. I never left my desk at Axiom until we wrapped it up. Returning to her hospital room now, I feel a gl immer of optimism. A purpose to drive me forward. Getting August back safely, then dealing with Clint permanently. It won't reverse her condition, but at least it gives me direction. Which is something I desperately need right now.

Like clockwork, Danie enters the room and freezes at the sight of me. Then she dissolves into sobs. "I thought you'd given up on her," she manages between attempts to wipe away her tears.

"Never. Just had some urgent business matters that demanded my attention," I say. I understand she might hold me responsible for the incident, but I also know even Danie needs someone to lean on to keep strong through this. I’m that someone for Danie. "Have you found a care facility for her yet?"

She takes a seat across from me and grasps Ava's free hand. "I located several places. The problem is the cost. I don't know if I can manage the payments. I could try a state-run institution. But those places—" Her voice breaks as fresh tears spill down her cheeks.

"Choose whichever facility will take the best care of Ava. I'll handle all the expenses.”

"I can’t possibly ask you to do that—" she starts to protest, but I cut her off.

Looking her directly in the eyes, for the first time in several months, I can see how this situation is taking its toll on her. The dark circles under her eyes and slight tremor in her hands betray her exhaustion.

"You’re not asking, I insist. I don’t want you to have to worry about it. I just want Ava to be comfortable and properly taken care of. I know that's what you want too. She deserves the best care possible, and money isn’t going to be what stands in the way of that."

"Thank you Ryder. I know this hasn't been easy on you either. I haven't been easy on you. I’m sorry. I just have so much anger inside me. I was taking it out on you and I shouldn’t have.”

"Danie, don't worry about it. Trust me, I understand. I did the same thing to Keith a week ago. We’ll get through this.” I nod my head towards Ava, “And so will she. I have some work matters to attend to overseas. I'll be gone for about a week. You won't be able to contact me during that time. But if something happens with Ava, or you find yourself needing help with anything," I hand her my Axiom business card. "Send a message to this number. One of the guys will help you until I get back. I'll see the messages when I'm done. "

"Why can't I just call your cell?" she asks.

"Because I'll be leaving it behind. Taking it along would put me and anyone with me at risk." I clarify.

"Oh—" she says as she looks at the card avoiding my eyes.

I lean over and give Ava a kiss on her warm cheek, lingering for a moment as I breathe in her familiar scent. "I'm going to be gone for a while. I'll be back soon." Whispering into her ear, my lips brushing against her skin, "I'll have someone special with me." I kiss her cheek again, softer this time, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing. "I love you. Surprise me by waking up before I get back," I whisper again, my voice thick with emotion as I reluctantly pull away from her still form.

On my way out, Danie calls after me, "Don't do anything stupid. I can't do this all alone."

I bob my head in acknowledgment and exit the medical suite. The next time I walk through this doorway, I'll have August with me.