“But you did stabilise him? He’s okay?”
Rubi.
The doctor addressed him directly. “He’s gone to the operating theatre with the orthopaedic surgical team. They’ll be able to tell you more when you get over there.”
Rubi took a breath, absorbing that. “You wouldn’t put him under if it was dangerous though, right?”
No. Operating meant he wasstable.But Rubi hadn’t been here when Galen had told us that. And the doctor repeated it, explaining Nash’s other injuries—a cut face, bruises, but by the grace of God, no internal damage.
“He’s been very lucky,” she said. “His leg needs a lot of work—I wouldn’t expect him to be out of surgery anytime soon, but aside from a long road of rehab, if all goes well, he’s going to be fine.”
Relief rolled through the room, a tsunami of emotion that knocked everyone but Saint off their feet.
I fell into the chair beside Cam, River on my other side. I ached for Locke. For Nash. But with my brothers this close, I knew I wouldn’t break.
Mateo disappeared to smoke. Saint stood guard over Cam, their fingers tangled together while Cam fought to stay in the room, trauma and benzos fighting for dominance.
Rubi paced, this nightmare still new to him. Unthinkable.
“Boo, come on.” River held out his hand. “You know how this works. Wearing a hole in the floor isn’t going to change anything.”
Rubi took River’s hand and sat down.
Stood up again, pushing River away. “Where’s Teddy?”
Alexei.
All eyes turned to Cam, but it was Saint who spoke. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Not what I asked, bro.”
Saint shrugged and propped a shoulder on the wall.
Rubi glared, as aware as I was that something had gone down today that had nothing to do with runaway teenagers and road accidents. Using it as a distraction from the vicious worry tearing him up, but he was out of luck with Saint for deeper reasons than him running out of words to explain it.
Saint didn’t know. I saw it with my own eyes.
Locke does. But he wasn’t here. Which left Cam—in his torn, blood-stained clothes, his gaze distant and haunted—and Rubi couldn’t look at him.
Silence fell over the room.
Mateo came back and glanced around, out of his depth but trying. “Anyone hungry?”
No one answered him. He stepped out again, loitering in the corridor. Saint twitched to join him, but for Cam, he stayed, focused on my brother until Galen poked his head round the door.
“Nicked you some clothes.” He tossed Cam a duffle bag. “Get out of those wet threads.”
“Thanks.”
It was the first time Cam had spoken since Saint had brought him back from minors. He rose with the bag and shuffled out, his body moving as if he’d driven his bike at a moving car and catapulted himself over the bonnet.
The crunch of metal on concrete.
I shivered.Stop. Nash is going to be fine. The doctor said so.And I was a realist. But even I couldn’t steel my heart to the reality of what had happened tonight. Nash was in surgery. Unconscious and cut open by doctors who held his precious life in their hands. Making peace with that was impossible.
Cam returned without Saint. He was dressed in sweats an inch too long for him and a faded blue T-shirt. Out of his own blood-stained jeans and destroyed riding jacket, he seemed better, more present. He sniffed the T-shirt and frowned at Rubi. “This yours?”
Rubi’s brows hiked an inch up his face. “In what fucking universe do you think I packed a suitcase before I left?”