AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She froze. “No.”
I sharpened my gaze. “Yes. I get you're stubborn, but you injured your back. The doctor said bed rest.”
For once, she didn't argue straight back. I could almost see the pigs flying, as indecision flashed across her face.
“I—”
She shifted from foot to foot. Her pain was apparent, so whatever she wanted to do was important to her.
“Just tell me where you’re going,” I said, softening my tone. "I'm not your enemy, Wicked.”
Her mouth rolled from one side of the other. She stared at me, and I waited. I knew the drill.
“Go get Blake.” This was as close to a concession as I’d get, so I moved. “And we need a car.”
East Orange VA Hospital.
Wordlessly, I moved Blake from the car to the stroller and pulled his hat over his ears. Marlow gripped both sides of the doorframe as she eased out of the backseat to her feet. She didn’t even flinch, her tolerance for pain at a threshold higher than the toughest of people.
“What time should the driver come back?”
“Four.”
“That’s too long,” I argued.
“Then have her come get you when you get tired.” She grabbed the handles to the stroller and pushed toward the entrance of the hospital.
I instructed the driver to come back this afternoon, but to be on standby in case we needed her. I caught Marlow as she went through the automatic doors.
“Brought the cuteness back?” The nurse behind a reception desk stood and leaned over to wave at Blake.
“He’s got some new fans.”
“Along with his mama.” Her gaze drifted to me. “Who’s your other friend?”
“Just some random man following me. Is Aaron up?”
Did Wicked just make a joke? “Patrick Whitley.”
“Well, Patrick Whitley, I’m Daisy. Nice to meet you.” Dimples cratered her cheeks. She turned her attention back to Marlow. “He’s having a rough day.”
“Can you find something for him to do?” She thrust her finger in my direction.
“I’m going with you,” I said, annoyed she was treating me like a nuisance.
She pushed Blake through another set of automatic doors, this one leading to a long hallway of rooms on either side. It was quiet minus the shuffle of feet and paper and the roll of carts and equipment on the linoleum floor.
Marlow moved with purpose, as if she were no stranger to this place. Near the end of the hall, she paused. Her shoulders rose and lowered as she drew in a deep breath and released it. Then she disappeared inside an open door.
My steps faltered when I followed her. On the bed was a man with missing limbs. When he saw Wicked, his face lit up. As he rolled his head toward her, I froze. The other side appeared to have been badly burned.
“How.” Blake’s standard greeting broke me from my trance.
“How.” The man’s voice was roughened as if just speaking the word was painful.
“Mind making yourself useful and putting Blake up there?” Marlow asked.
The man’s gaze flicked in my direction and hardened. “More visitors?”
