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There are only a handful of people in this world I'd fully embrace the patch for, and four of them are standing next to me.
And they care about her being back there, hurting. Alone.
So now I fucking care about it.
And this woman is standing in my way. She's an obstacle that needs to be removed, and I'm not going to waste any more time playing this stupid game.
Hunter's hair brushes against my forearm as he tilts his head to look at me. “Who are we, Dad?”
I stare at the receptionist, my patience long since shredded. “We're the motherfucking Reapers.”
“Jar,” Hunter murmurs.
The receptionist's eyes widen, and I can see the fear tightening her features.
“Good. Our reputation precedes us.” I lean in, resting my elbow on the desk. “Now tell us where she is.”
46
NOVA
“And you must bethe family that has Nancy all flustered,” a cheery nurse says as she bustles in the waiting room, holding a clipboard. She leans toward Ma and offers her a conspiratorial wink. “Don't worry, Nancy is always a bit prickly. Follow me, and I'll bring you back to her.”
“Thanks,” Silas grunts.
Bane glares at the receptionist as we leave the waiting room, but she's not even paying attention to us. Already back to typing on her computer.
I stay silent, doing my best to shut everything from earlier out. Stuff that shit up in a cabinet and forget about it. Not that I would bring it up now.
I said everything I had to say to him, and even if I wanted to rehash it, I wouldn't do it with Hunter glued to Silas's side.
Worry wrinkles my brow as I wonder what he must make of all of this. I have to believe that if Evangeline were in real bad shape, Bane would have warned Silas the moment he saw Hunter and Ma walk through the door.
He's a tough kid though, resilient as hell. He's a St. James after all.
We follow the nurse down the corridor, and I rub a hand over my heart absentmindedly. It aches like a sore muscle days after a heavy lift.
Fear and I are old friends, but I've never felt the pinch of it like I did when Silas called. The way my heart seized when he said Bane was taking her to the hospital, I thought I was going to lay my bike down.
Déjà vu punches me in the gut, stealing my breath as memories superimpose themselves over my vision.
I walked down this same exact hallway when Dad was here. He was shot, high as fuck on the cocktail of pain meds and recreational drugs he already had in his system, and spouting shit I didn't understand.
We were used to the benders he went on after a good run, but this was something different. It was like he was recalling details of someone else's life, talking about other children and different jobs.
I blink, and I can still hear the sounds of his labored breathing, the way the machines beeped in time with his heart.
And now, here I am again. Walking down this same damn hallway, but instead of my father, it's Evangeline.
“How is she?” Bane asks. He skirts around me to walk next to the nurse.
For once, I'm grateful for his need to gather information. Not only do I want to know the answer, but his arm brushed against mine, snapping me out of that déjà vu spiral. I haven't thought about that night in years.
“Well, that's what we're going to find out,” the nurse says, flashing him a bright smile.
“Why hasn't she been treated yet?” I hear the sharpness in my voice, but I don't temper it.
The nurse glances over her shoulder and me, her smile growing tight. “Well, in case you're unfamiliar with how emergency rooms work, they're triaged.”
