Page 146 of Halo

“Bullshit.”

“You know I can’t override—”

“Where the hell is my son?”

Several heads turn, but I couldn’t give less of a shit.

The hum in my ears is back, my hands are shaking, and every second somebody keeps me standing at this desk is another second I don’t know what happened to my boy.

“Dr. Nicholas Crawford?”

A uniformed officer approaches me.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m Officer Lesner. Ms. Stone identified you as Grady’s father and asked that we contact you.”

“Where is he?”

“I’ll take you to him, but I need to clarify a couple of things first. Are you and Ms. Stone married?”

I choke on a bitter laugh. “No. We’re not together.”

He nods. “Ms. Stone sustained non-life-threatening injuries and is currently receiving treatment. Once she’s medically cleared, she’ll be taken into custody.”

My stomach twists. “For what?”

“At this time, we’re investigating the crash as a suspected DUI. We also recovered a quantity of suspected narcotics from the vehicle consistent with possible intent to distribute. Given that a minor was in her care at the time, we’re also investigating child endangerment. Final charges will depend on the results of the toxicology and narcotics testing and the remainder of our investigation.”

For one terrible second, all I can do is stare at him.

She had Grady in that fucking car—

No.

This is bigger than one car ride. How many times has she had him while she was high? How many times has she driven him somewhere? Left drugs where he could reach them?

Fuck.

She hasn’t just endangered my son tonight. She’s been doing it right under my fucking nose for months.

“I don’t care about her right now.” My voice breaks despite every attempt to control it. “Please. Where’s Grady?”

The officer’s expression softens.

“He’s conscious and stable. Pretty upset. The emergency personnel are still with him. Come with me.”

I’m already moving before he finishes the sentence.

The officer stops outside a room near the end of the hall and pulls the curtain back.

I don’t see the monitors or the healthcare workers moving around the room. I don’t register the equipment scattered around the gurney or the voices speaking somewhere nearby. My entire world narrows to one tiny little human with rumpled blond hair.

All I see is my Grady.

He’s curled up in the lap of a petite firefighter sitting cross-legged beside the gurney. Tattooed arms hold him securely against her chest as she rocks him, his head tucked beneath her chin where strands of bright purple hair peek out from under her department cap.

My heart cracks in two.