“I’d like him to never, ever prove it again,” she says, and then she bursts into tears. Huge, body-shaking sobs, the kind that has my own eyes prickling. I echo that same sentiment all the way down to my bones, and I’m somehow going to look after him completely during his recovery while making sure he knows how absolutely furious I am that I need to look after him in the first place.

We’re a fucking team, and putting himself in danger like that isn’t something he’s going to do ever, ever again. Even with Margot assuring us that he’s going to be okay, I’m not sure I believe her. I’ve been in this frozen state of horror for hours now, and while it’s thawing, the process is slow, and I’m still waiting for everything to go drastically wrong again.

“When can Reilly see him?” Lars asks on my behalf, and thankfully, he does because it didn’t even occur to me that it would be a possibility.

Margot scrubs at her puffy eyes. “He’s sedated, but you can go through.”

Thank fucking god. I forget to even thank her as I head for the automatic doors and barely stop myself from running down the hall to his room. Everything is so white and busy back here, but as soon as I see his room number, I screech to a halt.

My knees lock up, and I almost go flying right past, but nothing is going to stop me from seeing him. I inch inside, nudging the hospital-grade blue curtain out of the way, and the second he comes into view, I want to cry too.

He’s hooked up to machines, hair a matted mess, and his skin that isn’t bruised and swollen is far paler than it usually is. My heart squeezes at the sight.

I’ve always felt that Perry was mine to protect, and the feeling has heightened every day that I’ve known him. Seeing him like this? I feel helpless. Like my one purpose has been snatched away from me, and I’m scrambling to work out what to do next.

I take the chair beside his bed and reach out for his hand. It’s not the usual, enthusiastic warmth I’m used to, but I kiss it anyway, watching his face, hoping for any sign that he knows I’m here too.

There’s nothing.

No twitch.

No flicker of a smile.

No eyelid flutter.

Just sleep.

Which is good. Sleep is good. He’s going to need a lot of it.

My hold on his hand tightens. Perry’s the sole reason to keep my heart beating. The one who makes me want to be better than I’ve ever been before.

I hate seeing him like this.

***