Shattered Dynasty by Ava Harrison
36
Trent
I seeit as it happens.
I’m powerless to stop it.
Fear, harsh and vivid, streaks through me.
I’m in my car, half a block away, watching in slow motion as the car heads in her direction.
There is nothing that I can do.
Panic like I have never known before wells in my throat.
Before I can think twice about my actions, I’m throwing my car into park, dashing out of my car, and running.
Chest heaving. Arms pumping.
In front of me is the crumpled body of Payton. My heart lurches in my chest as I pick up my pace to reach her in time.
Her body in an unnatural position.
I drop to the ground beside her, moving closer, but I’m careful not to touch her in a way that could hurt her.
First, I check her pulse.
There.
Then I fish out my phone and dial 911.
When they answer, I rattle off the information.
“Payton. Princess?” I try to see if she is okay.
Her eye cracks open.
“Y-you . . .”
“Shh. It’s okay. Help is on the way.”
“You d-didn’t do this,” she mutters through a cough, and then her eyes close.
“No. Payton. Wake up.” I want to shake her awake, but I don’t. It’s too risky.
Her chest is still moving.
She’s still alive.
I take her hand in mine. Holding it. Rubbing it. Telling her she will be okay. She has to be.
A pool of blood spreads beneath her.
Where the fuck is the ambulance?
How long has it been?
It feels like an eternity as I wait, but then I hear the familiar sirens, and I know they’re almost here.
I continue to speak to Payton.
She doesn’t answer, but I feel her pulse on her wrist. She is still alive.
Her pulse is still there.
I count its beats as I wait. Pray with each one that she’s okay.
That she doesn’t leave me.
It doesn’t take long before the paramedics are rushing over.
They start to work on her.
And the next thing I know, they are lifting her onto a stretcher, then rolling her into the ambulance.
By the time I realize what’s happening, they are gone and off to the hospital.
Now that I’m alone, her words ring back in my ears.
“You didn’t do this.”
Like a punch to my gut. It feels like a brick has been placed on my chest. She knows it wasn’t me. Despite everything I’ve done to her in the past.
She trusts me enough to know I would never hurt her.
From where I am still sitting on the ground, my gaze spots the blood.
The car was similar to mine.
I told her to meet me here.
Someone wanted her to think it was me.
Paul?
But whoever it was didn’t succeed.
Payton saw through the ruse.
Because to her, I’m more than a criminal. I’m more than the rich playboy who skirts the law.
She sees past every wall I ever erected, and somehow, despite what I put her through, she sees the real me.
The man who feels heartbroken right now for every mistake I made with Payton.
It feels like I’m free-falling at the realization.
“Excuse me,” someone says from above. I look to see a campus security guard standing above me. “I’m going to need to take your statement.”
“I’m going to the hospital.” I don’t have the time for this shit, not when Payton needs me, but I know if I don’t cooperate, campus security will tell the cops, and then I won’t be able to be with Payton. “A car, black. It looked like mine . . .” I point at my car where it’s still parked. “It wasn’t the same make or model, but it certainly looked like it was. It barreled into her. Listen, that’s all I know right now. But I will find out who it was.” I reach into my pocket, grab my wallet, and then pull out a card. “Here’s what I need. I need you to send me the footage from the security cameras in the area.”
“I can’t—”
“Trust me, you can. Send everything for the incident.”
I stand and then head to my car. As soon as I close the door, I hit the button on my phone to call Jax. I forgot to ask the EMS which hospital they took her to.
“What’s going on?” he answers.
“I need you to help me with something,” I rush out so fast that my words blend, and I’m not sure he will even understand me.
“Calm down, man.”
I take a deep breath.
“Someone tried to kill Payton.”
“The fuck?”
“I need you to tell me what hospital she went to, and after, I’m going to need you to look over the footage, but first, the hospital for Payton Hart.”
“On it.” I hear his fingers hitting the keyboard. “How’re you holding up?” he asks as he continues his search.
“Not well.”
“She’ll be okay.”
“She better be.” I grunt because I won’t even humor the idea that she won’t be.
“Found her. Mercy General. It’s five miles from where the GPS on your car says you are. Make a left on Franklin, and you’re there.”
“Thanks.”
I call Cyrus next, and before he can even say hi, I’m speaking.
“I’m on my way to Mercy General by Ludlow University. There was an accident.”
“Shit,” he grits out. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” The worry in his voice is palpable.
“Not me. Payton.” It feels like ice is spreading through my chest as I tell him about the accident. When I’m done, he inhales deeply.
“Is she okay?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I need a favor. Fuck, I need all the favors.”
“What can I do?”
“I need you to call whoever you know at the hospital and pull some strings. I want to be able to see her. Also, whoever you know on the police force. I want all the info on Payton’s accident sent to Jax.”
“Done and done.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.” I hang up the phone and continue to drive. Cyrus knows everyone. If anyone can get me in to see her, it’s him.
Because I will see her. Today. And then when the time comes, I’ll take her back home and take care of her.
No matter what she says. Because I won’t give her a choice.
I’ll make her.
Once I arrive at the hospital, I pull up right in front of the building. I don’t bother going to the lot. I just throw it in park. They can tow my ass for all I care.
They won’t, though, because Cyrus will take care of that.
Barreling into the waiting room, I head straight for the front desk, slamming my hands down on it, startling the poor girl behind it.
“A girl, Payton Hart, was just brought in. Car accident. Where is she?” I don’t have to see myself to know my eyes are wild.
“Please, sir.” The woman clicks away at her desktop. “Can you slow down?”
“Payton Hart.”
She looks down at her computer and starts to type.
I can hear the way her fingers hit the keyboard in slow, spaced-out movements. It’s driving me insane with how long it is taking.
I’m probably better off walking away and having Jaxson hack the hospital. Then I would know exactly what is going on.
After another second, she looks up from the computer.
“I’m sorry, sir. She’s in triage right now, I’ll be able to find out—”
“I want to see her now.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
And I know without a measure of doubt, Cyrus Reed will come through for me again.
I start to pace as I wait for her to update me. My feet hitting the floor heavily.
Fear and anger knot inside me. The thought of her broken on the ground, blood pouring out of her head, has me shattered.
I feel like a piece of glass that just got hit with a hammer.
No matter how hard I breathe, it’s impossible to calm my erratic pulse.
Hands clenched at my sides.
I can’t rid myself of the image of her lying there.
Who did this?
Paul.
He’s the only one who makes sense.
A commotion has me turning to the entrance of the hospital.
Cyrus.
He’s striding toward me.
When he’s in front of me, he places a hand on my shoulder.
“What are you doing here?”
Cyrus doesn’t answer. Instead, he gives me a look that tells me all I need to know.
We are family.
Family takes care of each other.
“Let’s go,” he says, and I shake my head in confusion, but I follow anyway. We walk past the woman, straight through the doors that lead into the restricted part of the hospital. We’re only a few steps inside when a man in a suit approaches us. He’s not a doctor, that’s for sure.
“Mr. Reed. Mr. Aldridge. I’m Steven Rigsby. I am in charge of this hospital. If you’ll follow me, I’ll bring you to Ms. Hart. She’s being worked on right now, so you’ll be right outside her room, but as soon as you can see her, you’ll be right there.”
I nod, and he turns around to show us the way. Down the hall and through corridors, we keep moving. Finally, he leads us to a small waiting room in front of a door.
“This room is private, Mr. Reed. No one will disturb you.” Then he steps out, leaving Cyrus and me alone.
“Cyrus—” I start, and he lifts his hand to stop me.
He’s not one for words or emotions, but him doing this, him being here, means something.
Both of us are quiet.
The door to Payton’s room opens a crack, and from my angle, I can see her. Or at least what I think is Payton. I see a bed, an elevated foot. I see a machine.
I watch it.
Watch the graph. Watch her breathe.
Listen to the sounds of life.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Neither of us speaks. But we don’t need to.
Having him here is enough.
The door to the room opens, and the doctor walks toward us.
My pulse picks up. Standing, I walk toward him, Cyrus right behind me.
I swallow hard. “Is she okay?”
“She will be,” the doctor says, and Cyrus places a hand on my shoulder. “She was very lucky. She has a concussion. Cuts and bruises. A sprained ankle and wrist and she bruised her ribs, but she was very fortunate not to have broken anything.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ll be able to see her soon.”
I let out a deep breath, and my body vibrates with relief.
“Come on, sit,” Cyrus says, leading me back to the chair. “She’s going to be okay.”
“It was my fault.” I bury my head in my hands. “Our fault.”
“You think this was Paul?”
“Who else could it be? Especially since I am fairly sure this is about the shorting of Torenzo Corp. As soon as I get Payton home, I’m going to call a meeting to figure this out. But first, I need to make sure she is okay.”
“It could have been an acc—”
“Cyrus. You didn’t see it. It was no accident.”
His jaw tightens. “All you have to do is worry about Payton.” He pulls out his phone and starts typing out a text. “We will handle it. All you need to concern yourself with is your girl in there. You understand?”
I nod, too emotional to speak.
That’s when Ivy walks in, clothes in hand.
She throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly.
“Thanks for coming, sis.”
“What can I do to help? Have you called her sister?” I pull back and look at her.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Trent . . .” She inclines her head. “She’s her sister.”
“Fine, call Baker, have him contact her.”
Ivy nods her head and walks toward Cyrus. I turn away from them, granting them privacy.
Time goes by. One hour, to be exact. I know because I studied the clock on the wall as if it would tell me the secret of life.
Finally, the door opens, and a nurse smiles at me.
It’s my time to go in.
I take a step inside where Payton is lying on the bed unconscious, hooks and wires attached to her.
She looks so helpless.
Fragile.
It feels like I’m being stabbed as I look at her.
My emotions are all over the place.
I want to scream. I want to punch something. But most of all, I want to pull her into my lap, kiss her, and tell her I’ll take care of her.
Bruises litter her face.
Red welts, scrapes, and cuts from where her head hit the pavement.
I continue to look at her.
My heart lurches in my chest with each bandage I see. There is one on her head. Her wrist. Her leg is elevated and wrapped as well.
With the concussion and bruised ribs, I imagine she will be holed up for at least a few weeks in my place.
Payton doesn’t open her eyes as I make my approach.
I’m sure whatever drug they gave her for the pain has knocked her out.
I take the empty chair beside her bed. Again, I’m surprised that she doesn’t wake up and am slightly unnerved as well, but I sit by her bedside.
Her hand is in mine, my gaze glued to her face when I hear a groan.
Her eyes are still closed, but they start to blink.
With confusion still heavy in her gaze, she stares up at me, and when her eyes go wide, the machine next to the bed starts to beep faster. Her heart is beating rapidly.
“Payton, you’re okay,” I promise. “You’re safe.”
She tries to speak, but her words don’t make sense. It’s as if she’s gargling rocks.
“It wasn’t me, Payton. I was still in my car across the street. I ran to you as fast as I could.”
“The-the car.”
“It looked like mine, but it wasn’t my car.”
“I-I . . .” She coughs to clear her throat. “I know, Trent. I know you would never hurt me.” She inhales, and when she does, she cringes from the pain.
“You have to take it easy,” I tell her. “You hurt your ribs. They gave you something for the pain, but I imagine it still hurts.”
“Water.”
“Let me just check with the nurses,” I say because I’m not sure what she’s on and if she’s allowed. “I’ll be right back.”
I stand from the chair and make my way into the hallway. I flag down the first nurse I see and ask her to check on Payton.
“You stay out here. I’ll get you when she’s ready,” the nurse says to me.
I stand in the hallway as I wait for them to talk.
After a few minutes, she leaves the room and motions for me to re-enter.
Payton still looks hazy, but at least she isn’t backing away in fear again. I head to the chair and sit down.
I grab her hand again, unable to help it.
She looks down at our joined hands, then back at me for a minute. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything. There is no witty retort. No fire I never realized I crave.
“How did this happen?”
I brush my thumb over her knuckle. It’s the only one left untouched by rocky scabs. “I’m still trying to get to the bottom of it.”
Without thinking of what I’m doing, I take her other hand in mine, too. I’m holding them both now, stretching my arm out so she doesn’t have to move a hair on her body to accommodate me. Hope flashes across her face. Brief. Like a firework.
“I promise you, Payton. I know I told you I want to hurt you. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I finally realized that what I was doing is no different than what my father did to Ivy. I swore I would never be that man, and that’s what I was coming to tell you. I was coming to tell you I’m not going to fight you anymore.”
“You were going to give me the money.”
“Yes. I put in a call to Baker to meet. Then once you are allowed, I’m taking you home, and I’ll take care of you.” I hold her hands steady, unable to bear breaking contact yet.
“You don’t need to take care of me.”
“I do. I don’t trust anyone else. I upped security. You will be safe in my place. It’s my fault you’re here, but I’ll make this right.”
“What do you mean?”
I lower my voice. “I can’t talk about it here.”
Her hand is still in mine, and I squeeze it very gently to get her attention.
“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” I reach up and pull hair away from her eyes, hating the bruises there, wishing I could’ve been the one in front of that car instead of her. “I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
“What if I don’t want you taking care of me?” she teases, and I’m happy to hear the sound of it.
“Nonnegotiable. Your safety is my only priority,” I respond. “Listen to me, Payton. You have a concussion. Sprained wrist. Sprained ankle. You can’t walk. You can barely breathe. You can’t be alone. Heather can’t help you. So that only leaves your sister.”
Her jaw tightens at that suggestion.
Just as I’m about to open my mouth to say more, the door to the room bursts open.
Speak of the devil.
Erin runs into the room.
“Oh, Payton.” She sprints to the side of the bed, looking genuinely concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Erin,” Payton croaks.
“What happened to you? Who would do this?” Erin asks.
“They don’t know.”
“Why would anyone want to hurt you?” But then Erin turns to me, brows furrowed. “You’re the only one who would want to hurt her,” she hisses in my direction.
“I can assure you, I had nothing to do with this.” I don’t have to justify my actions to her nor my relationship with Payton, but it still pisses me the fuck off that she is doing this right now.
“I see the way you look at my sister. I saw the way you spoke to her. You want her dead.”
“Erin—” Payton groans.
“What?” She lifts a defiant brow, crossing her arms. “It’s true.”
“Please, stop.”
Erin gives a reluctant nod and takes the seat on the other side of the bed. The side furthest from me. “When can I take you home?”
Payton turns her head toward her sister and stares at her for a second. “I’ll be fine, Erin.”
“You won’t be fine. You need someone to take care of you, so you’ll come home and stay with me.”
“And Brad? Will he be there?” she asks her.
“Of course, he will be,” Erin chastises. “He lives with me.”
Brad. The boyfriend . . .
“I’m not going home with you, Erin.” There is an edge to her voice, and I want to smile at how tough she is. Even in a hospital bed, she has a spine of steel.
“That’s ridiculous. I’m your next of kin. I’m all you have. You need to come home with me. No one else.”
Payton’s eyes beg me to save her with a million unsaid words.
“She’s coming home with me,” I interject. “I’ve hired staff to take care of her.”
I’m not sure if this is what Payton wanted me to say, but this is the answer I’ve come up with, mostly because it’s nonnegotiable. I have round-the-clock security, and after this, it’ll only be tighter. There won’t be anywhere safer for Payton.
“You can’t possibly be serious,” Erin says, crossing her arms with a scowl.
“Seeing as I’m the executor of Payton’s estate, and I need to pay bills for the staff, it makes the most sense for me to oversee the staff in my own house.” My pragmatic answer will win me no favors with Payton, but it speaks to a language Erin knows . . . money.
“She doesn’t need staff. She has me, and you just need to turn the damned money over to me so I can take care of my family.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself from saying something I will regret about the fucking money.
“Payton”—I pause—“what would you like to do?”
This might not be the right course of action. Her sister might railroad her into going back with her, but at the same time, after everything I’ve put Payton through, I feel strongly that I need to give her the choice.
She turns to her sister, and for a brief second, my heart races a little bit faster. What that means, well, I can’t read into that right now. Instead, I wait for her answer.
“I’m staying with Trent.”
“What?” Erin shouts, and I take a protective step closer to Payton.
“Erin, this makes the most sense, seeing as he’s in charge of my money,” she points out. “He can get me the best help. Round-the-clock nurses. I just feel like my healing would be better off at his house.”
“You’re making a mistake. I can guarantee when the cops look into this, they will see he’s the one who hit you.” She scoffs.
Payton visibly shakes at the accusation.
Payton’s eyesdart back to me, boring into mine. Unspoken words are said with her gaze. I trust you.
“Erin, it’s final. I’m going to go home with Trent.”
“Fine.” Erin stands and snatches her bag off the seat. “But don’t say I did not warn you about what can happen to you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
With nothing more to say, the room goes quiet, but the threat still lingers.