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Denielle flinches at my outburst, and I round on the former Marine. "He's coming after Lilly."
Stoic George is back. "That’s a likely conclusion."
"How do you know about the drugs?" Denielle voices the question I ignored.
I'm still in the process of assessing if I broke anything but turn my attention back to the conversation.
"Nate traced the owner through a couple of shell corporations after I gave him the address. Once he had the name, it didn't take long to find what we know now. I was following Turner back toward Westbridge when I got your call." George looks at Denielle. "I was another twenty-five minutes out."
This time, it's my eyes that nearly bulge out of their sockets. I stare at her. "You called him?"
Denielle looks something between guilty and proud. "I had to. I mean, Lilly was injured."
My gaze swivels between the three people in front of me, and I stop at Wes. "You also have his number?"
Wes’s tone is almost apologetic. "I do."
I scowl at George who remains mute.
What the fuck? He might as well give it to my parents.
After Georgeall but took a blood oath that he would not abandon his post again, we made our way back upstairs, waiting for Lilly to get discharged.
Neither of us move to enter the ER's waiting area, and my father finds us in the hallway outside of Lilly's room.
"We're ready to leave. Mom is with Lilly, but I want you in there while I'm pulling the car around." Dad doesn't allow for any questions or negotiation. The man who could give George a run for his money when it comes to emotional paralysis looks like he had about one too many coffees. I don't think I have ever seen my father this jumpy. Tristen McGuire is a professional. The man in front of me...is not.
I give him a curt nod and walk toward Lilly's door. I'm about to enter when I hear my father address our friends. "I spoke to your parents. You two take Heather’s car back to our house." I glance over my shoulder and meet Wes's confused gaze.
Does Dad know that they don’t have any mode of transportation here?
As he steers my two friends toward the exit, probably telling them where Mom parked, I enter Lilly’s room. She sits at the edge of the bed, a hospital gown covering her front and the back loosely tied, most likely so that the one size fits all—or not—won't randomly open and fall off of her tiny frame.
Our eyes immediately lock, and relief is written all over Lilly's face. "Hey," she breathes.
"Hey, babe." I force my voice to remain steady and calm, even though my pulse has been somewhere above the 150 range since George confirmed my conclusion that Turner is after her. It’ll be a miracle if Lilly is allowed to pee in peace going forward. Nate is probably going to implant a tracker in her arm or neck.
Lilly frowns. Of course she reads me like an open book—I can’t keep anything from her. I imperceptibly shake my head. Not here. Instead of nodding, she slowly blinks in affirmation. I want to pat my back. We totally have this silent communication thing down.
I continue my way to her and interlace our fingers, placing a kiss on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
She smiles weakly. "I just want to go home." My breath hitches, and I study her face.
Which home is she referring to?
Mom remains mute. I glance over and see her watching us intently. Her face is closed off, and it's almost as if my parents have changed roles. She takes a step forward and addresses her daughter. "Let's get you ready. Dad is going to pull the car around any minute."
Lilly eases herself off the bed, and I grasp her elbow as her feet hit the floor, and her legs wobble. "Easy, Cal."
Leaving the room, Mom walks ahead of us alongside Julie, who leads us through back corridors to a set of elevators not accessible for someone who is not staff. Lilly's nurse takes us down to an underground bay meant for the ambulances to deliver their patients. Dad's Raptor is idling as close as possible to the elevators without blocking any emergency vehicles.
I climb in the backseat ahead of her, and once she is inside, Lilly lies down in my lap, making sure her back doesn’t touch anything.
Mom and Dad take the front without a word, and we're off. As we come out of the delivery bay and around the side, I understand why we chose this route. Once again, the hospital entrance is lined with news vans.
Fuck.
At home,only our friend Lancaster awaits us. The rest of the vultures are likely camped out in front of the hospital. I already see tomorrow's headlines:
