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The receptionist takes entirely too long, tapping at least ninety-seven keys on her noisy as fuck keyboard.
“Okay, got her. She was taken back.”
Nova shoulders his way next to me, planting his palm on the desk in front of us. “How is she? Is she okay?”
I got here a few minutes before him, but I waited in the parking lot. I knew he'd come in hot, and I didn't want him to do something rash in the heat of the moment.
And yeah, maybe I was trying to keep myself in check too.
The receptionist taps some more on her keyboard, her gaze never straying from her computer screen. “I'm sorry, but I can't discuss patient information like that.”
He leans forward, his jaw clenching. “I'm not asking for her medical information. I just want to know if she's okay. Alive, breathing.”
I feel something tug my pinkie finger and look down to see the wide dark brown eyes I love more than life itself.
“Hey, bud.” I curve my hand over his shoulder, tucking him in close to my side.
He leans into me and wraps his arms around me as best he can. “Is Eve okay? Nan said she wasn't feeling good, so she had to go to the doctor.”
I glance behind me and see Ma. She stops behind Hunter, the skin around her eyes tight with tension. “How is she?”
I jerk my chin toward the woman behind the desk. The one who's still ignoring Nova. “We just got here, and so far, they haven't told us shit.”
“They wouldn't even let me go back with her, and I'm the one who brought her here,” Bane damn near snarls.
The receptionist sighs. “I'm sorry, sir, but I can't release—”
Bane slams his hand down on the desk, startling the receptionist enough to garner her attention. “I'm her motherfucking husband. So why don't you tell me where the fuck my wife is.”
The receptionist's mouth drops open, and I'd honestly find a little humor in it if I wasn't side-eying the fuck out of my cousin.
“Oh, well, why didn't you say that from the beginning,” she stammers. “That changes everything.”
“Yeah, well, I'm her husband too,” Nova snaps, leaning back on his heels and folding his arms across his chest.
“Wh-what?” the receptionist pauses, her hands hovering over the keyboard.
“Aye, me too. So why don't you tell us where our woman is, yeah?”
Her mouth snaps closed and her gaze narrows on the three of us. “Lying about your familial relationship is one way to get escorted out of St. Mary's, gentlemen.”
Ma shifts forward a step, her hand resting in the middle of my back. “Honey, why don't you save yourself the headache and tell my boys where she is, yeah?”
“And who are you,honey? Her wife?” The receptionist arches a brow, sarcasm thick and lips flattened into an unimpressed smirk. It's such a sharp contrast to her genuine shock literally thirty seconds ago.
Ma reads the challenge and steps to it. “Nah, sugar, I'm their mama.” She jerks her head to the left, toward us. “So I guess that makes mehermama too.”
“Well, she'smynanny!” Hunter crows, pushing entirely too much possession into four little words.
The receptionist leans over the desk separating her from us and glances at Hunter.
I keep my gaze on her when I smooth my fingers over his shoulder, offering him some comfort. “That's right, bud, she sure is. We have to be patient with people, right? Sometimes they don't realize who we are.”
There's a beat of silence. The receptionist lets her gaze crawl over us before she zeroes in on me. It feels annoying in the way that a mosquito is constantly buzzing around your face.
Nothing like the way Evangeline's gaze feels on me. And that comparison is enough to have my hackles rising higher. Again. I grit my teeth, prepared to lean into this role that's been handed to me. A role that I never knew if I really wanted it or if I thought I did because it was all I ever knew. It was a position in this community that afforded my father a lot of perks while he wore the patch.
I've never flaunted my patch, never played that game. Never found the need to. But maybe my penchant for peace is mistaken as weakness. Maybe it's time I remedy that, starting with the woman in my way.
