Hot Driver - S01 E85

Story 3 days ago

Hot Driver - S01 E85

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 85

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Alice’s Private Residence – Moments Later

The door finally splintered open beneath Curtis’s relentless hammering, and he stumbled through the wreckage of it, breathing hard.

He froze.

Maeve lay on the floor in a spreading pool of her own blood, body convulsing weakly, eyes half-open and unfocused.

“MAEVE!” He was across the room in an instant, dropping to his knees beside her, hands hovering helplessly over her shaking body, unsure where to even touch her. “No, no, no, MAEVE, stay with me, please—”

He scooped her up against his chest, blood soaking instantly through his shirt, and screamed for help, for anyone, his voice tearing apart with a grief he had no right to, and every right to feel anyway.

—

Hamilton General Hospital – Canada – Evening

The jet touched down as the sun began sinking low over the unfamiliar skyline, and Ivory was down the steps before the engines had even fully quieted, still barefoot, still wearing the wrinkled hospital gown she hadn’t thought to change.

A car waited on the tarmac, a driver stepping out immediately.

“Ms. Bennett? I’m with the Hale household. Your mother contacted us about your flight — we’ve arranged everything.”

Ivory barely registered the words, climbing into the back seat without hesitation, urgency thrumming through every nerve in her body.

“Take me to him,” she said. “Please. Now.”

The drive to the hospital passed in a blur, and she was moving before the car had fully stopped, sprinting through the entrance, following directions barked at hospital staff until she reached the correct ward.

She pushed through the door.

Duane lay motionless on the bed, wires and tubes trailing from nearly every part of him, monitors beeping in a slow, fragile rhythm.

Something in her chest cracked wide open all over again.

“Duane,” she breathed, crossing the room in a rush, sinking down beside the bed and taking his hand in both of hers.

The Hale couple and the twins, gathered on the other side of the room, watched with visible pity as Ivory’s composure shattered completely, sobs wracking through her small frame.

“You’re really here,” Mrs. Hale murmured softly, more to herself than anyone else, watching the raw devastation on the young woman’s face. “Oh, sweetheart.”

Ivory reached up with trembling fingers and traced the line of his brow, the same gentle motion that had worked once before, back in that other hospital, back before any of this had spiraled so far out of control.

His eyelashes didn’t move this time.

“Please,” she whispered, voice breaking entirely. “Please, baby. Wake up soon. I might actually die waiting for you.”

The monitors kept their same steady, fragile rhythm, and Ivory pressed her forehead against his hand, sobbing quietly into the sterile silence of the room.

TBC.