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“Would you?”
“Of course.”
Barrett wrapped an arm around his sister as they took the elevator up, then walked the long hall to Forrest’s room. The first glance of his nephew, tiny and so pale he was almost translucent, made his heart stutter. He wanted to rush forward, gather the boy in his arms, and sob. But Val’s death grip on his hand pulled him into focus, steadied him.
The doctor waiting for them was tall and reedy and his glasses reflected almost too much light. Barrett didn’t like that they couldn’t see his eyes. The nurse with him was giving them the long, hard stare of a lifer who had seen too much.
“Ah, good. I wanted to talk about Forrest’s blood tests.” The doctor gave Barrett a look, one he was intimately familiar with. He was a big man with a scruffy beard and long, dark hair that curled too much at the ends. His clothes were never new enough, his nails never clean enough. “We should talk in private, Ms. Miguel.”
“We are in private.” Val motioned to the room full of machines beeping, bleating, keeping Forrest alive. “We’re the only ones here. I don’t think Forrest minds.”
The doctor nodded, apparently not one to press an angry, upset mother. But Barrett knew that tone, cold as ancient stone and sharper than any dagger. He reevaluated; the doctor’s instincts were shit. “There’s no easy way to say this. Your son has leukemia. It’s manageable, but he’s been ill for some time, according to his records.”
“Go on.” Val leaned forward but her grip on Barrett’s hand was so tight he swore he heard his bones protest. He couldn’t get away now, even if he wanted to. He’d always be by Val’s side, through everything. He wasn’t going anywhere, but his hind brain was screaming to get away because Val had the countenance of someone ready to fuck shit up. And he didn’t know that anyone would blame her.
The doctor’s words were a blur of difficult to follow medical jargon and what sounded to Barrett like bullshit, but Val was nodding along, tapping her chin with a finger. Looking utterly nonplussed. That thing in the back of Barrett’s mind sent up little red flags, so he gave her hand a gentle shake.
I know you’re mad. More than mad. Think of Forrest.
“So we’ll need to start treatment now, but I see your insurance has been denied. We’ll need to clear that up sooner rather than later.” The steely-eyed nurse thrust a clipboard at Val, who handed it to Barrett without taking her eyes off the doctor. “Any questions?”
“Just one, for now.” Val put out her hand. “I want your cell number. Or pager. Or whatever I can have to get in touch with you immediately.”
The startled look on the doctor’s face was quickly followed up by, “I don’t give out my personal information -”
Val leaned in. “You will for me. We’re in the Spinley Ward of this hospital. August Spinley’s daughter, the head of his vast business empire, is my boss. And she said if I ran into trouble, I should call her and she’d…hmmm, what was the phrase?” Her smile grew but he knew it wasn’t the nice kind. It weighted the very air in the room until it sat like lead in his lungs. “I remember now. She’dtake care of it.”
The nurse silently handed Val a scribbled on scrap of paper and he wanted to laughso badly. Val never, ever used her boss as a crutch or a lynchpin but now, with her son’s health and life on the line?
Val would have found a way to crack the planet in half to keep him safe.
“You can’t do that,” the doctor choked out, his eyes narrowed, mouth thin, as he swiped the paper from Val’s hand. “That’s personal and it’s a breach of my privacy.”
Val leaned in, teeth bared. “My son’s health doesn’t give afuckabout your privacy.”
The doctor looked like he might lunge for Val, but Barrett stepped in front of her and crossed his arms. He knew what he looked like and, much like his sister, had learned a long time ago to pull that kind of shit only when it wasabsolutelynecessary. “The best care. The best doctors,” he rumbled, not breaking his stare with the man trying desperately to pull himself up to his full height. Barrett was still taller. Some twisted little part of him smiled in glee at the doctor’s obvious discomfort. “I’m guessin’ you don’t get talked to like that often, huh?” He leaned a little harder on the coastal accent that had been trained out of him by “well-meaning” relatives after his parents left he and Val behind.
It’ll make you sound inbred.
Just like your father, too backwards, too stupid. Straighten up, smarten up, and don’t sound so goddamned redneck for once.
And his favorite, from his grandmother:The world isn’t kind to people like us, Barrett. Don’t give ’em an excuse to look at you like you’re worth less than the mud on their shoes. The mud that they pay people to wipe off for them.
Silently, Val handed the doctor her phone and Barrett could hear Eleanor Spinley’s rich, cultured voice on the other end. “I understand you’re causing issues with my employee’s son, Doctor…?”
“Robinson,” the doctor bit out.
And the conversation was lost to his ears, though watching the doctor get redder in the face was prize enough. He realized Val had moved to Forrest’s bedside, her hand wrapped in his little limp one as the nurse talked to her quietly.
As soon as the doctor thrust Val’s phone back at her, he turned heel and left. “Ass,” Val muttered.
“He is. He’s also a really good oncologist.” The nurse looked up from checking the clear, snaking IV lines; with every touch of her gloved hands, Barrett felt his gut clench. His little nephew looked so sick, so sunken and those plastic tubes stuck into that thin, papery skin made him shiver.
The nurse left with a pat to Val’s shoulder and finally they were alone. The tether of the little boy who shared their blood stretched between them. “Val?”
She sniffled, not looking at him as she gripped Forrest’s hand. “Ken’s been blowing up my phone but I don’t want him here.”
Anger curled in him. Forrest’s father had partial custody, so Val couldn’t block him from seeing his son. But Barrett could sure as fuck play bodyguard. “You want me to stay?”
