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“How long have I been here?” Lucas demanded, ignoring Rowe.
“A day and a half.” Snow loomed over him, his frown fierce.
Ian gave his hand another squeeze before releasing it and stepping back. “You’ve been in and out the whole time.” Lucas returned his gaze to Ian, taking in his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes. “This is the clearest you’ve been since Rowe found you in the alley.”
“Did you cancel the opening?”
“No.” Ian shook his head, a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Snow gave me regular updates last night so I’d stay at the restaurant. He said you’d kick my ass if I postponed. The opening was perfect, but I’m sure you expected that.”
Lucas closed his eyes, and some of the throbbing that had started in his temples receded. “Of course. Now, go home. Get some rest.”
“Damn, Lucas!” Rowe walked closer to the bed. “That’s cold even for you.”
Lucas’s eyes sprang open and he glared at his friend. “He’s exhausted and doesn’t need to be hovering over me when he’s about to drop.” He tried to sit up in the bed a little higher, but his body wasn’t responding. It felt like his muscles had been reduced to marshmallows.
“No, it’s fine,” Ian said with a soft chuckle. “He’s already sounding more like himself.” He patted Lucas on the shoulder one last time. “I’ll bring food over once you get settled at home.”
Lucas managed to grab Ian’s hand and press a kiss to the young man’s knuckles. He was proud of him and grateful for his concern, but he just couldn’t get the words past the lump in his throat. Lucas knew he was a cold, gruff pain in the ass on the best of days and Ian didn’t deserve it. The talented chef had likely put in a full day and night at Rialto then came straight to the hospital. He needed sleep, not a standing vigil at Lucas’s bedside.
Ian smiled, squeezing Lucas’s fingers before pulling away. Rowe met Ian at the door, and slid an arm around the other man’s shoulders before he walked with him out of the room.
Lucas took as deep a breath as he could against the pain in his injured ribs and turned his gaze to the last man in the room, knowing this would be the real confrontation.
“I thought I was going to have to sedate him when Rowe brought you in,” Snow said, his tone surprisingly level.
“The stress of the opening—”
“Don’t discount his emotions.” Snow growled out the words like he had the sore throat.
Lucas’s eyes narrowed on his best friend’s face. Low-banked rage burned there. The doctor was barely holding his temper in check. Lucas could only guess it was because he was technically at work and didn’t want to be caught shouting at a patient. But he wasn’t so sure how long that reason would rein Snow in.
“You’re the older brother he’s always wanted. The one he needs. Seeing you like that—” Snow broke off and swallowed hard. “Don’t do this again. You’re the center. You hold us together.”
“How bad was I hurt?” Lucas asked, shocked to see Snow so shaken.
“You look worse than you are. A couple cracked ribs, some internal bruising, eight stitches above your left eye, and two broken knuckles on your left hand. You’re also bruised as hell.” Snow slipped into a more clinical tone, probably to help him compartmentalize his emotions. “It’s the concussion that’s serious. You have to take it easy for a few days. No work. Your memory is going to be fuzzy for a while.”
“But nothing too serious,” Lucas pressed.
“No. Just don’t do this again. Ever.”
“Snow—”
“Don’t,” Snow snarled, cutting him off as his anger surfaced again. “If you’re not here, we won’t make it. I…I don’t know what I’d…”
Lucas wanted to argue, to say something to ease the pain and fear that filled his friend’s eyes. But he just didn’t have the words. Snow and Lucas had been together since elementary school. They joined the military when Snow needed to escape his family and attended college together afterward. When Snow was offered a residency at University of Cincinnati Medical Center, there had been no question—Lucas packed up and moved with him to Cincinnati. Rowe had been with them in the army and joined them when Snow was in medical school. Ian had been drawn into their intimate crew—the little brother everyone protected—just a few years ago.
But Snow was right. Lucas was at the center that kept them all floating along in the same tight orbit. They all needed each other, but they needed Lucas’s calm head and even temper to hold them together, to keep them from drifting apart.
A nurse in blue scrubs padded into the room. “Dr. Frost, this detective wants to speak with Mr. Vallois.”
