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He cackled and threw himself back on the couch, knowing better than to call a Marine a soldier. Yamin himself had beat up more than one Army Corporal who had made the mistake several years ago.
“Oh, stop being so sensitive.” He waved his hand around to dismiss his faux pas.
“Stop saying stupid stuff that makes me want to give you a noogie,” I countered.
“I’m so drunk.”
I grinned down at my friend.
“No you’re not. You’re probably more sleep deprived than anything else.”
“Doesn’t matter. The cure to both is the same,” Yamin said, stumbling to his feet. “I’m going to bed!”
I watched him go, swaying on his feet as he wandered down the hallway to his bedroom.
“Need me to tuck you in?” I called after him, just to rile him up a little.
“Not unless you want to be cuddled!” was his answer.
With a laugh, I finished my beer off and stood, gathering all the trash on the coffee table before bringing it out to the bin.
I’d miss living with my buddy. Honestly, he was gone often enough that it almost felt like living alone, anyway. But the moments we spent together, especially like tonight when he’d just gotten back from a mission, were precious to me. It reminded me of all those nights spent with the team as we tried to decompress before going home to our families. Well, not my family. I never had anyone to go home to.
“I do now,” I murmured to myself before heading to bed.
It was inching toward one o’clock here, but that meant that it was only ten in Vegas. I decided to try and see if Freya was still awake.
Aw, shit. My boxes were still on my bed, meaning I had to clean up before I could rest.
My careful assembly from earlier had turned into a mad rush to get things packed, all the while thinking of the beautiful girl I’d left at home. She was kind of a grandma at heart and went to bed early, unless I kept her up, so I’d probably have to talk to her in the morning before work. Which meant I’d be waking up at four-ish to call her in time.
I really didn’t want to do that. One thing I was grateful for being a civvie was the fact that I didn’t have to wake up at ungodly hours anymore. I’d gotten spoiled over the last couple years sleeping in until seven.
Throwing the last of my things out of my bed and onto the floor, I got undressed and slid under the covers while pressing on Freya’s contact. It started ringing immediately.
That was when another call came in. Unknown caller.
Damn it.
I hung up the unanswered call and picked up the other.
“Kane.”
“Mr. Ashton Kane?” the voice on the other line asked.
“Who is this?,” I countered
“Right, my name’s Woodrough Mason. I’m a PI that works for your Aunt Felicity. Your father is in the hospital and she wanted to see if you could make it up here. Unfortunately, things aren’t looking so good. We wanted to inform you so you can make arrangements to come to Chicago as soon as possible.”
“My father?” I asked, voice so thick I hardly recognized it. “Aunt?”
“Right…” He blew out a breath. “I was told you might not have been informed about Felicity. She’d like to talk to you. You just got to make it out to Chicago. He’s currently in Mt. Sinai Hospital.”
I couldn’t fucking tell if it was a crank call or not, but my guts turned in worry that it wasn’t.
“Thanks for the information,” I told him, deciding that I didn’t trust him.
I hung up the phone and searched the internet for the number to the hospital.
