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“Mt. Sinai Hospital. This is reception. How can I direct your call?”
“Hi, uh, I just wanted to see if my father was in the hospital.”
“Name of the patient?”
“Joseph Kane,” I breathed, hating that name on my lips.
Clickety-clack on the keyboard, then she answered.
“We have a Joseph Kane here.”
My stomach bottomed out.
“Is he ok?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t give out information about patients. If you’d like to get any information, you’ll need to verify your relationship or come in and talk with the doctor on shift.”
“Right. Thank you,” I told her, as polite as I could be in my rush.
The guy might have been right, but I still didn’t trust it. I’d been burned one too many times to trust just anyone. Even still, my father was in the hospital, and if the caller was right, things were looking pretty bad.
Did I even want to see my dad again?
The weird state of my stomach, filled with nerves, gave me my answer.
Fuck me… I guess I was going to Chicago.
Chapter 37
Ashton
It didn’t take long for me to put some fresh clothes in my duffel and slip back into my shoes. Ready as I’d ever be, I went to Yamin’s door and knocked. Loud.
He groaned in annoyance, and I gave him just enough time to cover up in case he was sleeping naked, before I busted in.
“I’m going to Chicago,” I told him. “Evidently my dad’s dying.”
That got him up and moving.
“Chicago? Dying?” he mumbled, blinking dry, red eyes at me.
“Is it ok if I leave this shit here for a little bit? I’ll get it all and sell my bike when I get back.”
“Of course. Keep me updated, man,” Yamin said, then collapsed back onto the bed.
That was fine by me. He just needed to know where the fuck I’d gone when he woke up in the morning. Hopefully he remembered the conversation.
Hurrying out of the house, I called a cab and waited on the curb for it to show up.
At the airport, the next available flight to Chicago was in a couple of hours, so I tucked my ticket into my waistband, leaned over my duffel so it wouldn’t get stolen, and got some shuteye. In special operations, you learned to sleep anywhere and any time you could. A useful skill.
When a hand patted my shoulder, waking me up, I jumped.
“Sir?” a woman said with the name Delta written across her vest. “Sir, the flight is about to leave. Are you going to Chicago?”
“Aw, fuck,” I growled, bumbling out my ticket to hand to the woman.
She took it and scanned me in, then held it out as I hurried through the gate to my plane. Inside it was pretty full, so I had people on both sides of me, since my last minute ticket was for a middle seat. I felt sorry for them though, because while I was all muscle, there was still a lot of it, and thin wasn’t a word I’d use to describe myself.
