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“Oh yes, I remember that patient, she came in while I was on duty. She’s in room two-oh-three. Would you like me to put you through?”
“Can you give me an update on her condition?”
“Are you family?”
“I’m Vaughn Weston. Her husband.”
I glanced down at Rebel, hating I’d even had to utter the word in front of her. I wasn’t Brooke’s husband anymore. Not in anything but name.
But Rebel shook her head. “It’s fine. What are they saying?”
“Oh, yes. I believe we met this morning. Hello again.” The receptionist hummed under her breath as she clicked keys on her mouse or keyboard. “She did list you as her next of kin. Her notes say she was admitted at two this morning, and she’s had surgery on her index finger, but the finger was never found in order to attempt reattachment. It’s good you brought her in when you did. She’s being held for observation but should be ready to be picked up in a couple of hours if you want to come down soon.”
A lump rose in my throat. “Could you put me through to her now, please?”
“Most certainly. It’s good you brought her down when you did.”
That was twice now she’d said that. The first I’d ignored as a slip of the tongue but now I was curious. “I didn’t bring her in this morning.”
The woman paused. “Oh, you weren’t the gentleman in the suit? I could have sworn he said he was her husband, but we were very busy this morning. I must have her confused with another patient. Apologies. I’ll connect you now.”
“That’s fine, thank you.” I waited, and eventually, Brooke’s groggy voice came down the line. “Hello.”
“It’s me.”
Brooke burst into tears. “They cut my finger off, Vaughn! I told you this was going to happen if you didn’t pay!”
I swallowed thickly through my guilt. I might not love her anymore, but it still hurt to know she’d been injured because I hadn’t been able to help her. “Who the hell are these guys? Who’s the guy in the suit? They cut your finger off but then take you to the hospital?”
“Why do you act like you’re surprised? They can’t blackmail you if I’m dead, can they! They’re just going to keep torturing me until it eventually goes too far.”
“There’s no money,” I confessed. “I went to my father’s business partner, but the business hasn’t been doing that well. He can’t get me the money you need.”
My mom frowned at me.
Her disappointment wasn’t going to help the situation.
Brooke’s response was only to wail louder. “My finger, Vaughn! It’s completely gone! Forever!”
I sighed. “Your father needs to know what’s going on. He has the money, and this has gone way further than I ever thought it would. Lopping off your hair is one thing, but a finger is a whole different level of messed up. He’s not going to let them keep chopping you up into pieces.”
Rebel slapped my arm, her mouth open in horror. “Don’t say that!” she whispered at me.
“It’s true,” I whispered back.
Brooke just cried down the line, her voice finally going soft and resigned. “They won’t stop at killing me, Vaughn. You know that. Once I’m dead, they’ll just find someone new to blackmail you with. My dad is a cold bastard who doesn’t care about anyone. If I had to guess, I’d say they already tried with him, and he told them to have at me.”
It should have been a shocking statement; except I knew it was probably true. Brooke’s father was no different than Harold Coker and the other men who ran in their circles. They didn’t care about anyone but themselves.
I had to try though.
I didn’t want to be like them. “I’ll go see your dad. I’ll make him listen.”
“You’re wasting your time. Tell Rebel to watch her back. She’ll be next after I’m gone.”
The line went dead.
“What did she say?” Rebel asked.
