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I turn tired eyes onto him. “I want to kill.” Truth.
“Any news?”
“She’s still in surgery. How’s your leg?”
“You mean after you shot me?” He scowls and rubs at his calf. “Missing a chunk.”
“You’ve had worse. Where’s James?”
“Don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” I ask, shocked.
“I think it’s this place,” he says, looking around. “Bad memories.”
I swallow, nodding. Pearl’s injuries were far too serious for Doc to handle. We all knew that. A bullet in the leg, fine. The arm, Doc to the rescue. A stomach? I look at my watch. Another hour gone. Another hour of surgery. I stand. “I need to check on Nolan.”
“I’ll come.” Danny follows me to Nolan’s room, and I walk in to find Ella on the bed with him. She scrambles to get up. “Stay,” I order, lowering to a chair by the bed.
“No, it’s okay, I need the restroom,” she says, dropping a kiss on Nolan’s forehead.
“Rose has gone to get some drinks if you want to help her,” Danny says, pulling another chair over and dropping to it.
“Sure.” She leaves.
“That felt like a subtle hint to scram for a while.” I give him questioning eyes, and he shrugs. I haven’t the energy to read between Danny Black’s lines right now, so I return to Nolan and check him over. Black eyes, swollen cheeks, his jaw looks a bit out of line. “How?—”
“How’s—”
I laugh a little. “How are you feeling?”
“Peachy.” He shifts, grimacing. “How’s Pearl?”
“Still in surgery.” I reach for the jug of water and fill a cup. “Want some?”
“I’m good.”
I down the whole cup, wishing it was Scotch. Lord knows I need a stiff drink. But . . . no. Clear head. What a fucking joke.
“What did you do?” Nolan nods at Danny’s extended leg, and I inhale my patience, waiting for him to start bitching about it again.
“Wounded in the line of duty,” he mutters. “What can you tell us about King?”
“What?” Nolan asks, his barely-open eyes squinting.
“Was he alone when he took you from the boatyard?”
“I was?—”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“I don’t?—”
“Can you remember?—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap, my head ringing, my angry glare on Danny. “Give the kid a second to breathe, will you? What the fuck is this?”
Danny wilts in his chair, pouting, backing down. “Just asking.”
