Page 114 of The Rising


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“Adrenaline,” Doc concludes. “It’s quite a fuel when the body needs it.” He stands with effort, holding the bag of fluids, and wags a finger at all of us. “Let’s move him into the car so I may take him back to the house and get some blood in him.”

“You have blood?” I ask, taking Brad’s feet as James gets him under his arms.

“I have everything, Danny,” Doc says, walking alongside us to the car, never taking his eyes off Brad. “Conditioning myself to expect the unexpected has been quite a godsend since I became the private doctor for the world’s most wanted.”

“That’s not official,” James grunts. “We’re not even on the list.”

“And I pray you never are, because I can save you from bullets, burns, and broken bones, but not when you’re behind bars.”

James catches my eye, and he raises his brows, as do I, silently amused.

And quite sobered by Doc’s statement.

We place Brad into the back of one of the Mercs, and Beau tries her hardest to get him comfortable, huffing and puffing, not happy with his position. “I’m going with him,” she declares, slipping into the seat and lifting Brad’s head onto her lap. It’s an endearing sight. Seeing her worry. Seeing her care. Sadness and appreciation in equal measure wash over me. Appreciation for our women. And sadness that Brad hasn’t got his own to fret over him. He has ours, though. Always.

Beau looks at James and me in turn. “And someone needs to give Rose the heads-up on the guests we’re expecting.”

Fuck it.

I need to be the one to do that. I’m terrified this whole messy situation will trigger something in her. Like the ring did. “Be vague,” I say, looking as awkward as I feel when Beau shows her incredulity.

“Ten women are about to arrive and check into Casa Black, Danny. What do you want me to say? That you and James became the Pied Pipers for women in Miami?”

“Ha... ha,” I drone.

She sighs. Beau knows what this could mean. “I’ll do what I can.” Doc passes her the bag of liquid, she pulls the door closed, and Len pulls off once Doc is in the car.

“What a fucking day,” I breathe.

“And it’s not over yet,” James says, holding his hand out. Leon places my Marlboros in them and he’s quick to light one, handing it to me before lighting one for himself.

We both turn in unison on deep inhales and long exhales, creating a sizable cloud of nicotine that conceals us from Higham, and when it clears, his face is a picture I’ll never forget as Ringo, Goldie, Otto, and Jerry lead out ten women from the cabin and put them in the cars.

“My God,” he says, shaking his head, waving a limp hand at the cars as they drive off. “All sedated?”

“Yes.”

“And what carnage is there to mop up?”

“About fifteen dead Polish fuckers.” I smile. “You. Are. Welcome.”

He breathes in, looks to the sky, and breathes out. “I’ll be in touch.”

“I’m busy for a few days,” I call, thinking the last thing we need is FBI, whether friendly or not, hanging around while we’re taking a delivery. Or burying Beau’s dad. “So only call me if you have news on my father.”

He throws a hand up, dismissing me, and gets in his car, wheel-spinning away. I look at James, who nods, catching my drift. We both head into the cabin, help ourselves to a beer, and drop into a chair, slurping and smoking in silence, staring into space. Just taking a moment.He’ll be okay, I think, over and over.

“He’ll be okay,” James says out loud, as if hearing my silent worry.

“I kn—” I’m interrupted by my mobile ringing, and I frown, searching it out. Leon holds it up. “Who is it?” I ask, making him look at the screen.

“Private number.”

James and I glance at each other, and I hold my hand out. As soon as Leon places my mobile in my hand, I answer and take it slowly to my ear. Silence. And then a voice. But a voice Idefinitelywasn’t expecting.

“Danny?”

My eyes must widen because James leans in, frowning. “Amber?” I say, telling him what he wants to know. Surprise is rare on James Kelly. Only Beau can usually ever spike it, so his perplexed expression right now is quite a picture.

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