Hot Driver - S01 E88

Story 4 days ago

Hot Driver - S01 E88

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 88

—

Prestige High School – Library

Luis sat alone at his usual corner table, a textbook open in front of him though his eyes hadn’t actually moved down the page in several minutes.

Hazel found him there, and without a word, she slid into the seat beside him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight, wordless hug.

He melted into it instantly, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders for the first time all day.

Across the library, Eloise and Jason watched the whole exchange from a nearby table.

Jason turned to Eloise, spreading his own arms wide with an exaggerated, hopeful expression, clearly angling for the same treatment.

Eloise smacked his arm hard and stood, gathering her things and walking off without a word.

Jason burst out laughing, watching her go, entirely unbothered by the rejection, still grinning as he turned back to his own homework.

—

Morales Mansion – Same Afternoon

Ron lay stretched across his bed, staring up at the ceiling, frustration coiling tight in his chest.

He should have been out today, executing the final steps of his plan against Ivory — the compound was ready, the timeline was perfect, Maeve’s death had already consumed the news cycle enough that he could move without much scrutiny.

Instead, he’d been stuck in bed for the better part of two hours, this same stupid ache flaring in his chest again and again.

Just stress, he told himself, the same excuse he’d repeated for two weeks straight now. Just stress. It’ll pass.

The pain hit again, sharper this time, and he gasped, gripping the front of his shirt as though he could physically hold his ribs together through sheer force.

Something warm trickled from his nose.

He touched it, and his fingers came away red.

“GRACE.” His voice cracked with something close to real fear now. “GRACE, get me water. NOW.”

Footsteps rushed toward his room, and he lay back against the pillows, breathing hard, staring at the blood on his fingers with a growing unease he couldn’t quite name.

—

Hamilton General Hospital – Canada – Noon

The family gathered once again in Duane’s ward, though Arielle hadn’t actually left his bedside in days, sleeping in the small armchair beside him more nights than not.

The doctor entered for the routine check, running through his usual assessment with quiet, practiced care, and this time, when he finished, a small smile broke across his face.

“His vitals are stronger today,” he said. “Stronger than they’ve been since the transfer. I think—” he paused, choosing his words with careful optimism, “I think he could wake up any time now. Could be today. Could be tomorrow. But I believe it’s close.”

Mrs. Hale’s hand flew to her mouth, relief flooding her expression entirely. Mr. Hale gripped his wife’s shoulder, and Ariel let out a long, shaky breath he’d clearly been holding for weeks.

Arielle, still seated in her chair beside the bed, reached over and squeezed Duane’s hand. “You hear that? Any time now. Don’t keep us waiting much longer.”

Mrs. Hale’s phone rang. Celeste.

She answered quickly, voice bright. “Celeste! I have good news—”

She relayed the doctor’s words, and even through the phone, the family could hear Celeste’s soft, tearful gasp of relief on the other end.

—

Ivy Fashion Empire – Same Afternoon

Ivory’s phone buzzed with the family group chat, Diana’s message flashing across the screen: Doctor says he could wake up any time now!!

Ivory was on her feet before she’d finished reading the second line.

She dialed immediately. “Get my jet ready. Now. I’m leaving within the hour.”

Her new driver had the car waiting by the time she reached the lobby, and within thirty minutes, she was standing on the tarmac, wind whipping her hair across her face as the pilot approached her, expression apologetic.

“Ms. Bennett, the weather system over the Atlantic isn’t ideal tonight. I’d strongly recommend we wait until morning—”

“I don’t CARE about the weather,” Ivory snapped, voice cracking. “I need to see him. NOW. Get in the plane.”

The pilot hesitated a moment longer, taking in the raw desperation on her face, before finally nodding and turning toward the jet without further argument.

—

Hamilton General Hospital – Night

Ivory landed well after dark, exhaustion and adrenaline warring in equal measure as she rushed through the terminal and into the waiting car, urging the driver faster with every red light they hit.

She burst into the ward finally, breathless, and found the family gathered quietly around the bed exactly as the doctor had instructed — calm, low voices, minimal stimulation.

“Ivory.” Mrs. Hale rose immediately.

Arielle crossed the room and pulled her into a tight, unexpected hug. “You made it. Good.”

Ivory nodded, throat too tight to speak, and made her way to the bed, sinking into the chair beside it, taking Duane’s hand between both of her own.

“Baby,” she whispered, rubbing her thumb gently across his knuckles. “I’m here. I’m here now.”

Her tears fell freely, landing softly against his cheek.

“Wake up for me, okay? You have to make it fast. I’m losing my sanity, I swear I am. I can’t do this without you much longer.”

She lifted his hand and pressed it gently against her own cheek, closing her eyes, savoring the familiar warmth of his skin against hers even now, even like this.

His eyelashes twitched.

Once.

Then again.

Ivory’s eyes flew open.

His fingers moved — faint, weak, but unmistakable — curling slightly against her cheek where she held his hand pressed there.

“Baby?” Her voice came out barely above a whisper, disbelief and hope crashing together all at once. “Duane?”

His eyes fluttered open slowly, unfocused at first, and then, gradually, found hers.

“My addiction,” he murmured, voice thin and rough from disuse, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his eyes opened further, holding hers steady across the quiet hospital room.