Page 7 of Piece You Saved

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” The door closing makes sense. I was wrong to believe it was so Kade, Dariel, and Harley could fight without being seen. It was to give us privacy to grieve.

Because he’s here to tell us Aden is dead.

I picture a grinning Aden lying lifeless in a too-bright operating theater, his skin whitish-blue, chest carved open, and bloody implements sitting in an equally bloody metal tray. Dead.

I sway.

I don’t realize Kade has moved until I’m suddenly perched on his lap in a chair, his hand cradling the back of my head and his lips on my brow. “I have you, angel.”

Dariel is back to standing near the wall where the poster used to hang, but he’s not paying me any attention. Harley is getting all of his focus and then some.

Harley takes this new seating arrangement in a single glance: me on Kade’s lap and Dariel’s predatory focus. His expression doesn’t change as he crosses over to us, dropping into the hard plastic chair three away from the one I’m sharing with Kade.

He places the clipboard—important side down—on his lap, angles his body a little to the left so we’re face to face, and he says, “Your friend is alive.”

I don’t know what I want to do more: kiss him or burst into tears.

I do neither. I just sit staring at him, gripping Kade tighter.

If I’d been standing, someone would have had to peel me up off the floor.

I take a second to absorb his words. And then two. When his expression doesn’t change, this can’t be a cruel joke, so I let myself believe it. “He’s okay?”

Harley gives me a reassuring smile and nods. “He’s okay.”

I study him. “But there’s a but coming.”

“There’s a but coming,” he agrees.

He sits back in his seat, seeming not to notice Dariel is observing him as if waiting for a reason to kill him. “He was lucky I was working tonight.”

Kade snorts. “Surprised you could fit through the door with a head that big, Doctor.”

Harley half-shrugs. “We surgeons hold a person’s life in their hands. In my case, their heart. Sometimes literally. A healthy dose of ego is required.”

“They teach you that in school?” Kade sounds like he’s smirking.

“They do. Believe the impossible. If you don’t, how can anyone believe in you?” Harley re-focuses on me. “Your friend is alive, but he’s not out of the woods. We’ve stopped the bleeding, and he’s breathing on his own. Those are the important things. Both are amazing achievements. We have him on a ventilator. Nothing to worry about there. It’s standard procedure for cardiac patients. We’ll assess his condition in the next 12-24 hours and go from there.”

“And if the bleeding starts again?” I make a conscious effort to relax my shoulders before they touch my ears.

“The heart, for all the miraculous things it can do, is a delicate thing. There’s a reason we have our ribs to protect it.” He lowers his voice, and a frown creases his brow. “I know what caused the injury that brought your friend here. He was lucky to survive it.”

I can’t imagine most people survive a wolf attack.

Harley waits for a beat, as if for an explanation. No one offers one up.

When he doesn’t get one, he continues. “His recovery will be a long process, and therewillbe complications with all the damage we found in surgery. I’m here to go through some of what you can expect in the coming days, weeks, and months.”

My fingers tighten in Kade’s sweatpants as all my tension comes flooding back. “Months?”

“His heart stopped on the operating table, Jane.” He pauses. “Twice.”

My mouth is dry. “But you were able to save him?”

Harley nods once. “We have a great team in this hospital.”

“What complications can we expect?” Kade asks in a less hostile tone than before.

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