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He’d reached the end of his tether. The need to get out and find Eveline was clawing at him.
Ox tossed the covers aside as the door opened and the doctor walked in. The man was probably mid-forties and looked harried, as if he hadn’t had a moment to himself to breathe.
That was probably the truth.
While he sympathized with overworked doctors and nurses in hospitals, right this second, he just needed the man to act.
“Where do I need to sign?” Ox demanded before the doctor could speak.
“I’m Dr. Kennedy, and I’m offended you didn’t enjoy our hospitality,” he joked, as he pulled a pen from the top pocket of his white coat.
“Hospitals aren’t my favorite place,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t a nurse be doing my discharge?” Ox recalled that’s what happened when Eveline had been in hospital.
“I get that a lot. And normally, yes, but I wanted to give you one last check.” As if that explained everything, the doctor scribbled on the papers he’d placed on the roller table at the foot of Ox’s bed. “Do you have any concerns or worries?”
“Nope. I have feeling back in all my limbs, fingers, and toes. I can move without pain.”
“No headache?” Dr. Kennedy studied him.
Ox met the man’s gaze head-on, even though there was a regular thump thump at the base of his skull. “Nope.”
Over his time in the military, and after he’d almost lost his life, he’d dealt with varying levels of pain. What was going on in his head was quite manageable.
“Right, I can see by the way your eyes are narrowing a fraction that that isn’t quite the case, but I know no matter what I say won’t make any difference. You want out, and I’m here to facilitate that.”
“Appreciate it.” Ox kept a lid on his impatience, but it was difficult and he suffered through a final examination while answering Dr. Kennedy’s remaining questions.
“Right, here you go.” The doctor handed him a packet of papers. “Here’s your copy of everything. I’d tell you to go home and rest, but I have a feeling that’s not going to happen. All I’ll say, if you have any weakness in your muscles or the headache intensifies, come back immediately.”
“Will do.”
Dr. Kennedy eyed him before nodding. “Take care.”
The second the doctor exited the room, the door opened again, and Irish appeared in the doorway. “Good to go?”
Ox slipped off the bed and took a wobbly step. Cursing, he gripped the mattress and waited for the blood to fully circulate through his body now that he was upright and not lying down. Once he had it down, and wouldn’t show any weakness in front of his friend—although Irish hadn’t shown any reaction to his slight stumble—he straightened and started to get dressed. “Yes. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
The trip to the car didn’t take long, but the whole way Ox wanted to quiz Irish. Had they found Eveline? What condition was she in? If they hadn’t found her, did they have a location on where she was?
The longer the guy kept his mouth shut, the more worried he got that they had nothing, that Cass hadn’t been able to get any information on who took Eveline and where they were headed.
Ox squashed that idea immediately. He trusted Cass. No way would she rest until she had something for them to work with.
Even with the minimal amount of information possible, Cass had always been able to locate someone. How she did it blew his mind.
“Sitrep?” Ox demanded the second Irish clipped his seatbelt in.
“Cass was able to get into the cameras around your building and get the footage of what happened. After they’d incapacitated you, they put Eveline into the back of a black van. There were no plates on it, so she wasn’t able to find out who it’s registered to.”
“Eveline’s tracker?”
Ox’s stomach dropped at the blank look on his friend’s face.
“Found it on the ground next to your car. The chain was broken. Either someone yanked it off or it was a casualty as they took her from the car.”
“Fuck!” He slammed his fist against the window, helplessness strumming along his veins. Had whoever had taken Eveline known that her necklace contained a tracker? Or was Irish’s other assumption correct?
It didn’t matter; at the end of the day, the tracker wasn’t on her.
