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“I’m not going to run a triathlon, Doc. I just want to walk on the beach and sit in the sun for a while.” His voice was strained. “I…I can’t be here anymore.”
“The fact that I’m letting you even return to your villa and away from urgent care is pushing my limits, Cal. You shouldn’t be walking anywhere. Your lungs suffered—”
“One was punctured, I know. I’m aware.” Cal threw me a look. “Jinx here will dob me in if I overdo it. Won’t you, Jinx?”
I gulped, pinned in place by three men. “Eh, sure?”
“Good.” Cal shoved off the bed and almost fell to his knees.
“For God’s sake, Moor.” Dr Campbell reached out to catch him, but Cal shoved him away. “I’m fine. Let me get strong again, Doc. Just…leave me be. Look after Jess and keep her alive. If I need you, Jinx will come running.” He scowled in my direction. “Now, let’s go.”
I stayed silent as Cal shuffled toward the main exit.
Dr Campbell rolled his eyes behind smudged glasses, and Etti huffed. Both men gave up on their stubborn patient, placing him into my care. “If he passes out, come find us.”
“Oh, no. No way.” My heartbeat turned nasty. “I can’t be responsible for yet another man’s existence. If you believe he should stay, then he should—”
“I’m not fucking staying. I need fresh air,” Cal barked, reaching the door and yanking it open. “Come or not, the choice is yours, Jinx.”
Dr Campbell squeezed my bicep. “He’s strong, Eleanor. He won’t die on you, I promise you that. He might get tired and fall asleep from exerting himself too soon, but he’s too much of an asshole to die.” He smirked. “Takes after his boss, I’m afraid.”
I smiled weakly. “Then why hasn’t his boss woken up?”
“He will.” He dropped his hand. Smiling at Pika and Skittles who’d been my constant shadows, he added, “Now, I’d follow that stubborn man before he disappears into the island somewhere.”
I took his advice, slipping from the sterile surgery rooms and breaking into a faster pace to catch up. However, Cal hadn’t gotten far.
His lumbering steps were punctured with heavy breathing as he navigated the steps from the second-story tree-top walkway and sank his bare feet into the sun-warmed sand.
He groaned.
His head tipped forward, and his simple outfit of a white t-shirt and grey track pants shivered as he shook himself free from medicine. “Finally.”
I stayed quiet as he hauled his healing bulk forward and set a slow pace to the beach.
Pika zipped between us, cawing with impatience and almost goading Cal into ambling faster. Skittles showed more decorum, just eyeing up Sully’s friend and employee as if she knew how he felt being hindered by a body that hadn’t quite healed.
Half an hour passed as we walked in silence.
When the sea finally came into view and Cal fell to his ass on the sand, his face shone with sweat and his t-shirt turned see-through with his strain.
Sitting beside him, I let him get his breath back before I asked quietly, “Are you okay?”
He gritted his teeth and reclined to his elbows, digging them into the sand to prop himself up. “You can ask me that once and only once. I’m fine. I’m out of breath, and I’m pissed at my lack of endurance, but I’m fine.”
“Okay.” I dug my hand into the soft granules, trying to figure out how to begin. He might be tired from a long walk before his body had healed, but I was mentally and spiritually exhausted from Sully’s tightrope of life and death.
I didn’t have the energy for a fight.
I wished Jess was awake. She was strong and seemed to have a bond with Cal. She could’ve fought on my behalf and prevented any more animosity between us.
“So…did he kill him?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Did Sullivan kill his brother?”
I winced, remembering the slobbering, brain-dead creature in Geneva, but then morbid pride twitched my lips. “Would you believe me if I said we both killed Drake?”
His eyebrow rose, his gaze shimmering with respect. “And that’s a story for another day.” He winced and repositioned himself. “I want a beer in my hand and both of you to regale me with every gruesome detail.”
My smile faded.
I slouched.
I wanted that too.
I would give anything for Sully to wake and share a beer with his friend.
“How is Sinclair?” Cal asked quietly, turning his green gaze to the mirror-perfect tide. Sun spangled the top, reflecting gold on turquoise and promising a refreshing rinse from the humidity that’d slipped down my spine and cleavage.
Sighing heavily, I cursed the sudden press of tears.
No.
Don’t you dare.
I dug my fingers into my eyes, stemming such weakness. I would not cry. Not in front of him. I would show no weakness because if I showed a single sliver of vulnerability, Cal would never help me.
