Cadillac Payback: Rising Tide by AJ Elmore (grave mercy .TXT) 📗

nearby. Her expression starts as flat, but she flashes a quick smile. I look expectantly back to Noah.

“Only one of us can go, so go,” he says with a warm smile.

My lips curl into a response, the first smile in what feels like years. I nod.

As we wait for an elevator, the blonde looks at me sideways, and says, “If you don’t mind me saying, you keep the company of some gorgeous men.”

The comment takes me off guard, and I’m not sure what to say. I’ve never really thought about it that way, but she’s right. She would have loved Charlie. Then again, most women did.

“I’m sure they would appreciate that,” I answer.

It’s weird having girl talk with a stranger at the hospital, and when I put it into perspective, I’ve never really had female friends. I glance down at the badge clipped to her shirt. Jessica.

“You can certainly pass the word along to whichever one isn’t yours,” she says, and she punctuates it with a little laugh.

Mine? Technically, none of them are mine. Although the one we’re going to see is here because of me. Of course, I won’t say that to her.

The elevator doors open and we step inside. There are two people already there, and instinct has me sizing them up. One is wearing a white coat with a name embroidered onto it, and the other is an old man. The doors close, and we’re going up.

“The one in the waiting room, that’s Noah. He and his brother run a restaurant on Magazine called Couyon,” I say.

I watch her reflection in the metal door in front of us. Her eyebrows lift.

“I’ve heard of that place,” she says. “I will definitely check it out now.”

This is the most normal conversation I’ve had in months. It’s so normal, it’s strange. The elevator stops, and she motions for us to move.

“Aside from the eye candy, Jack is the best cook I’ve ever met,” I say as we walk.

The least I can do for the guys is a little word-of-mouth advertising. They’ve done so much for me over the years.

“Jack is the brother?” she asks.

“The one and only,” I answer.

Finally we come to another door. Before she opens it, she says, “Thanks for the tip.”

I give her a small smile. It’s weak, but it’s real.

“Maybe I’ll see you there,” I tell her.

“I’m Jessica,” she says.

“Maria.”

She gives me a bright smile. Then she nods toward the door.

“Go easy on him. He’s still in pretty rough condition.”

My smile drops, and I nod. She opens the door.

Tears rise immediately at the sight of him propped against several pillows, hooked up to a myriad of machines, each making its own noises. His eyes open when I come farther in to stand beside the bed.

“I know you’re not crying for me,” he says, voice so weak, barely audible.

That only makes the tears come harder. I feel like all I’ve been doing lately is crying, but I can’t stop it.

“For three days I’ve been terrified that I’m going to lose you,” I tell him.

He stares at me for a long time. He’s surely on some pretty strong pain killers. Who knows if he’ll even remember this conversation.

“Terrified?” he asks finally.

I nod, trying my damnedest to get my shit together. I reach down and gently slip my fingers beneath his, careful to avoid the IV stuck in the back of his hand.

“Maybe you do love me,” he says.

It has to be the drugs making him honest. Still, the words hook me right in the chest, and make the tears painful. As the train of events leading up to the shooting steamroll through my thoughts, I wonder. Maybe he’s right.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t cry,” he says.

“Don’t apologize. Don’t. Just please don’t die on me. I can’t…I can’t lose you the way I lost Charlie,” I say soggily.

He frowns, like maybe he wasn’t prepared for me to mention my brother. He shakily lifts his free hand like he’s going to reach for me. Fear rips through me that the simple movement will somehow undo any progress the doctors have made in saving his life. He must see it on my face, because he hesitates.

“Don’t move! Your body needs that strength to recover!”

He sighs, at least he tries, but it’s weak. His eyes suddenly roll back, and I almost reach for the call button. Then a little noise comes from him similar to when he fucked me, and I realize he probably just got some more drugs. Morphine, most likely.

He says something I can’t understand and his eyes slip closed. I stare down at him. His hair is free, framing his face with kinked-up curls.

I think of Nurse Jessica. He really is gorgeous, a fact that I’ve taken for granted this whole time. Goddammit, growing up hurts.

I squeeze his fingers and leave him. When I make it back to the waiting room, Freddy is there with Noah. For the first time since he was the one in this place, the sight of him breeds dread in my gut. He doesn’t look happy. Not that he ever does, but with one look at him I can tell something is wrong.

“What happened?” I ask, taking the seat between him and Noah.

He hesitates, checking me like he always does. I know I’m a hot mess, and so will he. I’ve wiped away the tears, but I’m sure my eyes are still red.

“How’s Josh?” he asks.

Is he deflecting, or is he actually concerned? I can’t tell, but if it’s the former, there will be no forcing him to talk. I sigh.

“He’s alive. He was only awake for a few minutes. They’ve got him pretty doped up. They haven’t given me any indication of what the recovery will be like – how long, how painful, whether there will be more surgery. There’s probably no way to know that yet.”

Freddy’s expression is hard as he listens. I’m sure being here is difficult enough, and that the memories come whether he wants them or not. I know this