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“What’s the word?” Iask Toad and Frenchie, standing in the hallway outside my brother’s room.
Frenchie shakes his head. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“The fuck is it?” I ask, scowling at my brother.
“It wasn’t the cases he was working on; it was his private investigation.”
My nose flares, and a burn starts at the back of my skull because I know where the fuck this is going.
“According to King’s sources on the street, Ryan was looking into your parents’ murder investigation,” Frenchie says.
“Fuck!” I snarl, punching my fist against the wall.
“Hey!” I hear a snippy voice behind me.
Turning around with a growl as Toad and Frenchie say, “Nitro,” I flinch when Toad grabs my shoulder.
It’s the nurse from last night, and the last thing that I have time for is her running commentary on what she thinks of me and “my kind.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s happening here, but we have several critically ill patients, your brother included. Keep it down and try not to put holes in my walls. If you need a punching bag, there’s a gym around the corner two blocks down,” she hisses between clenched teeth.
“Don’t start with me,” I grunt.
Crossing her arms, she steps toward me and pins me in place with her livid hazel gaze, a curious mix between heather green and slate grey. The woman is almost a foot shorter than I am, but she’s not backing down.
“Don’t start with you? I warned you...we’re both here for your brother, but I have other patients too. If you cannot control your temper while here, Ca....”
“Nitro,” I say when she struggles with my name.
“Mister Blackwood, if you can’t control your temper, I have no problem having you removed by our security team.”
“Well, I understand but know this...if one of them lays their hands on me, I won’t be the only one being removed. Don’t think they’ll too much like being carried out of here in body bags, though.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Take it how you take it,” I say, stalking off.
I’ve been here all night and need a hot shower and a quick minute with King. Toad and Frenchie are right by my side as we walk through the hospital doors and to the parking lot where our bikes are. We’ve left one of the prospects at my brother’s door while we head out.
It’s daytime, so I’m not worried about too much happening right now.
“What do you know about your parents’ murders?” Frenchie asks.
Shaking my head, I reply, “We never knew much about what happened other than they were shot at closing time at the pub.”
“You think your brother came across a tip?” Toad asks.
“Had to. Doesn’t make sense, though.”
“What’s that?” Toad asks.
“We promised each other that if we came across anything, we’d alert the other and look into it together. Looking into this shit on his own doesn’t gel with me.”
“Maybe he didn’t have time. Or probably wanted to protect you,” Frenchie says.
“Either that or he unknowingly stumbled into some shit that linked to their murders,” Toad suggests.
Pointing at him as we near our bikes, I say, “More likely that theory.”
