Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I kept a snapshot of us and Devil when I got my new cut. I learned the hard way to hold onto the good times,” Gunner says, the ghosts he carries close to the surface in his eyes. Brother almost lost himself during his last stent in the military and sometimes it really shows. “Is this good enough, Doc?” he asks, once he gets his billfold out. He reaches over to the doctor, showing him the snapshot. The doctor stares at it closely. Then he nods.
“We don’t have a Westin Cross listed as a patient here,” he says, taking a step away.
“What the fuck? You made us jump through hoops to just tell us he’s not a patient here?” Fury growls, advancing a step on the doctor. Gunner shifts in front of him, and I do too. The doctor doesn’t know what danger he’s courting. There’s a reason my brother has the road name Fury.
“As I was saying,” the doctor begins, standing his ground—and therefore, impressing me more. “We don’t have a Westin Cross. We do however have a John McDaniels here.”
“Come again?” I ask, not sure what was going on, but getting the doctor was telling me something—without actually telling me.
“We have a patient here in ICU that was left for dead. He’s been here for quite some time. We had him listed as a John Doe.”
“Doc, I’m not comprehending—”
“And then we were contacted by an Agent Lodge with the FBI.”
“Doc…”
“He was calling for a Rory McDaniels.”
“Fuck,” I growl.
“I take it that name means something to you,” the doctor says.
“It’s starting to.”
“We were told to give no one information on Mr. McDaniels—although I guess that would be Mr. Cross—until his family contacted us—if they did.”
“Son of a bitch,” Fury growled. “What did Diesel say about this shit?” he adds.
“Diesel?”
“The fucking man you’ve got hidden from us,” Fury growls, his patience—which he doesn’t really have in the first place—gone.
“Uh… He didn’t say anything. I don’t think you have a grasp on the situation here,” the doctor says, starting to look a little panicked. That’s nothing unheard of though. Fury can be a scary motherfucker.
“You need to start talking, Doc,” I growl.
“Perhaps it’s best if I show you,” he says. The four of us look at each other and then we take the doctor’s lead and let him lead us through the corridor that has rooms with glass doors pulled on them. There are curtains hiding the beds, and therefore the glass doors are useless—you can see nothing. We walk in, and each of us are bracing. You don’t live the lives we do and not prepare when you walk into a room blindly.
The doctor pulls the curtain back and I wasn’t ready. Even having braced myself…
I wasn’t fucking ready.
Diesel is lying in the bed, he’s lost weight, his face gaunt, his skin pale. His eyes fucking closed and he’s breathing through a fucking tube.
Through. A. Fucking. Tube.
“What in the hell is going on here?” I growl, those words feeling as if they are torn from my gut and as they tear they leave a wound that might never heal. “We were told our brother had been in a coma for a few weeks and was fine!”
“But… I’m sorry. Mr. Cross has been in a coma for almost four months. In fact, we were about ready to unhook him when we received the call from Agent Lodge. Mr. Cross is a witness in a federal crime and because of that they asked us to keep the treatment going until his family contacted him. They’ve requested to speak to you when that time came.”
Motherfucker.
“I don’t care what it takes or what it costs. You do not unhook him,” I growl. “I want to talk to Rory McDaniels now!” I demand, barking my order in a way that I dare the fucker to argue with me. “And tell her she better be sure she brings Diesel’s son with her!”
“But, Mr. Dawson, I don’t think you understand.”
“Understand what?” I demand, unable to tear my eyes away from my brother.
“I’ve never met Ms. McDaniels. She’s never been here and I don’t know anything about the patient’s son.”
“Motherfucker!” Fury yells, and for once I’m feeling as much anger boiling up inside of me as he is.
5
Rory
Almost Four Months Earlier
“I have a surprise for you, sister dear.”
I jerk up at King’s dark voice.
One week.
I’ve been here an entire week since watching Noah die. A week in which the pain doesn’t get better. It just seems to get worse.
I loved him.
It didn’t matter he was an asshole who hurt me. It didn’t change the fact that I loved him.
I loved him. My brother killed him.
Seven words that I just keep repeating over and over. They’re a broken refrain that have seared into my brain with such force my body feels as if it weighs a million pounds.