Chapter 7: Uneasy Truce

The air in the hospital waiting room was thick with a silence that screamed louder than any argument. Harper, usually a whirlwind of motion and sharp retorts, sat rigid on the edge of a plastic chair, her knuckles white where she gripped the worn fabric of her jeans. Her smokey eyes, usually dancing with mischief or defiance, were shadowed with a fear she’d rarely allowed herself to acknowledge. Remi, her petite blonde whirlwind, was finally asleep in a sterile hospital bed, the beeping of machines a constant, unwelcome lullaby. Gunner, her rough-and-tumble boy, was being held by a stoic Dax, his usual boisterous energy subdued by the somber atmosphere.

Across the room, Wilder’s usual cocky swagger was gone, replaced by a coiled tension that radiated off him like heat from a forge. His tattooed arms were crossed, his jaw tight, and his blue eyes, usually so full of possessive fire when they landed on Harper, were dark and troubled. He’d been a silent, formidable presence since they’d arrived, a rock in the storm of Harper’s making.

Braelynn, perched on a chair a little too far from Dax, looked surprisingly subdued. The usual sharp edge to her attitude was blunted, replaced by a nervous flutter of her fingers against her designer purse. Her sexy curves were still undeniable, but the usual arrogance was replaced by a flicker of something Harper couldn't quite decipher. Was it concern? Or just the fear of the unknown?