Page 184 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

He glanced over at his father, and shrugged. “It’s time for you to get your surgery done. Correct the lesion, and the aneurism. Now, before it gets worse. The doctor in Scotland is supposed to be the very best at what he does, right? You’re going to need to fly there and back, Papa.”

Calisto cleared his throat. “You know I can’t do that, Cross. Going into the hospital for brain surgery, not to mention the recovery time, would look very bad on my famiglia. It would put me in a position to be seen as a very weak and easy target. I can’t—”

“I’m ready,” Cross murmured.

His father stilled in his chair. “Or do you just think you are because of everything that’s happened, son?”

“I’m ready to take the seat.”

He wasn’t going to explain himself.

He didn’t need to.

Calisto nodded once. “All right.”

Noise echoed from outside the bedroom. Footsteps followed down the hall. Several pairs. Cross recognized all the men chatting and laughing together, and suddenly, his room was a hell of a lot noisier and fuller than it had been just seconds before.

Dante, Zeke, Wolf, a doctor Calisto had hired, and then Catherine peered in, too.

Cross hadn’t heard her at all.

He paid the men no mind as she darted across the room, and climbed onto the bed. Her legs tucked in under the covers, and she kissed the underside of his jaw with a sweet touch. Everything was so much better when she was near. Everything was perfect with her. He breathed in her familiar scent, felt her softness and curves, and his world slowed down for a moment.

It was more than enough.

“Missed you,” he murmured.

He felt her smile against his neck. “I was gone two hours.”

“A long two hours.”

“I got all the stuff you wanted except the blanket. It was in the wash before everything happened. I tried getting it clean again. It’s ruined.”

Cross shrugged. “Whatever. You’re back. I’m good.”

“Out of the bed, young lady,” Doctor Ulises ordered. “Let me check the boy.”

Cross glowered. “Man.”

The doctor ignored Cross, and waited for Catherine to move as she had been told. Then, he went about checking the IV that was attached to Cross’s left hand, and the bag of fluids and a mixture of antibiotics on the pole.

“Do you remember, Cross, when you broke your wrist as a child?” the doctor asked.

“Wasn’t I five when that happened?”

Calisto sighed. “Climbing tresses on the side of the house like he was fucking Spiderman.”

“I had to reset your wrist, and you called me a bastard,” the doctor noted. “First child to have ever cussed at me. I was a new doctor then.”

Cross’s brow furrowed.

Chuckles lit up the room.

“You did that, Cross,” Calisto confirmed.

“And that,” the doctor said, “is why I will continue to call you a boy until the day you die. But today, is not that day. Your pneumonia has cleared up well. The wound on your shoulder from the shrapnel is healing fine. Your cultures are looking clean. Once this bag of fluids is finished, and you get through the other bag of medication, you’re good to go.”

Catherine grinned at him from her father’s side.