From the Ashes (Possessed 2.50)

“Mr. Hart has come out of surgery. We had quite a bit of damage to repair with his leg. All in all, he’s a lucky man.” She smiles.

“When can I see him?”

“He’s in recovery now. Probably in the morning. It’ll be best if you go home for the night.”

“No. I won’t leave him.” Is she crazy? Leave him? Hell to the no.

“Ma’am, he’ll be going to ICU afterwards and visiting hours are over. You won’t be able to see him until the morning.” I know she’s doing her job. Declan’s not her only patient; I get it. Honestly, I do. But the rational part of my brain has fled, and I all I care about is seeing him. Confirming for myself that he’s alive.

“I won’t leave until I see him,” I tell her again.

“Miss– “

Landon cuts her off. “Fuck sakes. Do you have any idea the amount of stress she’s been through? She watched her man get plowed by a vehicle and nearly die. Let her see him, or I’ll go above your head.” I’m in awe. He’s never taken a stand like that for me before.

“It’s against protocol,” she continues to protest.

“Fine. Get me his fucking doctor.”

She scurries out the door to do Landon’s bidding. I shouldn’t be surprised. Most people who ar

e met with Landon’s temper are quick to comply with what he wants. He might be easy-going with Cec, but with everyone else, he’s a hardass. Demanding.

“Thank you, Landon,” I say gratefully, touching his arm, choked by more tears.

Grabbing my shoulders, he comforts me. “No way should you have to suffer all night.” Pulling me to his chest, I cry. I cry for Declan. I cry for me. I cry because I doubted my family.

A throat clearing has Landon pulling away and looking to see a doctor standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Powers?” He seems shocked. “I didn’t realize Mr. Hart was an acquaintance.”

“He’s not.”

“I don’t understand then.”

“He’s family.”

“Oh, this way please.” The doctor trips over his own feet to appease Landon’s request now.

I quickly follow as we’re led to the recovery rooms, unprepared for what I’m about to witness.

“Right here,” he instructs, pointing to an ominous looking door. “Please make it quick.”

Nodding, I walk in alone. The swoosh of the door clicking shut behind me has me jumping in my own skin. Beeping greets me as I slip behind the curtain for my first look at my man.

As soon as I see him, my heart sinks to the floor, and my legs shake. He’s covered in bruises and bandages. Stitches line the right side of his jaw up to his ear. His leg is elevated in a cast that goes from his toes to halfway up his thigh. He has monitors galore. Tubes and IVs are sticking out everywhere.

“Oh, Declan,” I cry quietly.

Pulling the chair from the corner closest to his bed, I sit silently and gently grab his hand. Rubbing circles on the top, hoping to soothe him. Let him know I’m here.

“Please don’t leave me,” I murmur as a lone tear falls and plops on his skin. “I’m whole with you.”

His fingers twitch, and my eyes shoot to his face to catch his unfocused gaze watching me with a defiant, lopsided smirk on his handsome lips.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“How you doin’?” he croaks, his voice cracking.