16. Hope
Chapter 16
Hope
CALLIE
“ L et’s try this again. Callie, can you hear me?”
I swatted at my dad. “Five more minutes.”
“Movement is better,” he said softly before speaking louder again. “Open your eyes, Callie.”
“I don’t want to go to school.”
He’s never cared if I went before. What’s five more minutes?
Why is he even awake this early?
Wait…
Memories of our goodbye faded in and out as my exhausted brain clawed its way back to awareness to remind me that I’d graduated—barely, but still—and I no longer lived with my parents. My lids shot open to see it obviously was not them chuckling. It was two men and two women I didn’t recognize.
One of the men wore bright white and floated closer. “There we go.”
I’m dead.
And in heaven.
It’s… underwhelming.
It took a minute for me to realize I was wrong. There was no way heaven would smell so chemically.
Or have such uncomfortable beds.
I raised my hand to my throbbing head and winced.
A woman standing on the other side of me watched my movements. She typed on the computer attached to a swiveling thing on the wall. “What’s wrong?”
“Head hurts.”
Her mouth curved down. “We’ll give you something to help, but it’ll likely be tender for a while, unfortunately.”
It wasn’t the only thing.
My body didn’t even feel like my own. It was like I was dreaming, hovering outside of myself. Not there, but still painfully aware of what hurt.
Everything .
Everything hurt.
The man moved to the side, and I saw he wasn’t floating. He was on a rolling stool. He grabbed a light to shine in my eyes. It didn’t help the mariachi band in my brain. I tried to minimize the pain by looking to the side at a clock on the wall.
It’s almost three. No wonder I’m so exhausted. I never stay up this late.
He said something to the woman at the computer—who also wore a similar coat—but I was too tired to pay attention.
I vaguely noticed the other man and woman come forward. They didn’t have coats and instead wore matching sets like the people on medical shows. I didn’t watch them often because they made me anxious. Real life was no better. One of them messed with some tube while the other poked and prodded at me.
“Who are you?” I asked. “Where am I?”
And why does my voice sound like I swallowed a thousand bees?
Sadness seeped in like it always did when I saw or thought of bees.
The coated ones looked at each other, but it was the woman who spoke. “You don’t remember talking to us before?”
I shook my head.
“You were still medicated and clearly in need of some rest,” the man explained. “I’m Dr. Pierce. This is Dr. Cruz.” He scooched closer and gently touched my shoulder. His expression and tone were both soft. “You’re in the hospital.”
That made more sense than heaven.
Kind of.
Except I still had no idea how I’d gotten there. “Why?”
“You were stabbed last night, Callie. You had surgery to repair the damage.”
I wanted to laugh. It was outrageous. Who would want to stab me?
“I think you have the wrong room. Probably happens all the time.” I forced my eyes open and pointed to the side. “I just left work a little bit ago. I couldn’t have been stabbed and had surgery in that time.”
His expression softened, and I hated it. “It’s the afternoon. Not night.”
I tried to think, but it was murky. I had a million questions—or partially formed ones since I was still so damn tired.
I asked one. I tried to, at least.
But my lids drifted closed. I thought it’d only been for a second, but when Dr. Pierce spoke, he was no longer on the stool. He was on the other side of the room near the computer and Dr. Cruz. Studying me for a moment, he asked, “Did you hear what I said?”
I shook my head gently so I didn’t restart the drumline. “No, sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve been through a lot. Police officers want to talk to you, but I’ll let them know you aren’t up for it yet. Your visitors, too.”
Them.
“Visitors?” I tried to sit up before immediately abandoning that plan. “I’m okay with that.”
“We’ll be back. Press the red button if you need anything.” He left with Dr. Cruz following.
I watched the open doorway, waiting to see who was there. I thought I was too tired and groggy to care.
I thought wrong.
Because when someone filled it, a pang of disappointment traveled through my mental fog to hit my heart.
I had no clue why I’d thought for even a second that it would be Chef Frédéric, Marco, or Cole, much less all three of them. But I had.
I’d hoped.
But it was Alex who stood across the room.
He gave a little wave but didn’t come closer. “Hey, Callie. How’re you doing?”
“Good,” I forced out through the rawness—of my throat and my emotions. Nothing made sense, and my lagging brain wasn’t processing any of it.
“I’m glad.” His smile wobbled, and his voice was so soft that I almost couldn’t hear him over the noise in the hall. “That was fucking scary.”
“What was?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question even as I spoke the words.
If I’d been working at even half capacity, his expression of confused horror would’ve almost been comical.
“Finding you like that,” he said.
“You’re the one who found me?”
At his nod, I felt like an even bigger bitch for being disappointed that he was my visitor.
“Oh. Um, sorry?” I shook my head, which reactivated the maracas. “I mean, thank you.”
That doesn’t sound right, either.
What do you say to the person who found you after you’d been stabbed?
“I wish I would’ve gotten there sooner,” he said. “Or seen something. I gave my statement to the police last night before I left, but there wasn’t much to it.”
My mouth curved into a small smile. Maybe. That was what I was going for, at least. “I don’t remember any of it, so I’m sure you were more helpful than I’ll be.”
When my sentence ended with a yawn, he hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m on my way to my buddy’s house, but I wanted to check on you. I’m gonna leave my number with the nurses in case you want company while you recover. Manny gave me extra time off, so my schedule is flexible this week.”
Right.
I don’t know much about how this works, but it’s probably unlikely I’ll be sent home in a few hours with a bandage and a lollipop.
My shame grew at his concern, his generous offer, and that he’d taken the time to visit. And then it skyrocketed to Everest heights because I was tempted to take him up on it. To ask him to stay. Not because it was him. I just didn’t want to be alone in the scary place, recovering from injuries I didn’t even remember.
And I had no one else I could call.
But I wasn’t going to selfishly use someone. I swallowed the words down and nodded. “Thanks. And for the, uh, whole finding-me thing.”
He gave me another smile before leaving.
I let my eyes drift closed so I didn’t have to face the empty room.
That didn’t end up being a problem.
Heavy, rapid footsteps sounded. I thought it was the doctors or nurses and wondered if something was wrong.
Or more wrong.
I forced my lids open.
I’m dreaming. Or in a coma.
Those are the only explanations.
I rubbed my eyes, but nothing changed.
Marco, Cole, and Chef were there like I’d summoned them with my earlier thoughts. They didn’t hover by the door like Alex had. They didn’t even pause. They entered like they owned the place, stalking straight to the bed.
Straight to me .
My shocked gaze darted between them.
They’re actually here.
Why are they here?
And why do they look like they’ve crawled their way through a desert hell?
They were still hot, of course. I didn’t think that could ever change. But stubble coated their jaws, and their hair was in varying degrees of disarray—though that part wasn’t unusual for Chef. Rather than pristine suits, Cole and Marco wore rumpled slacks and untucked dress shirts. I’d never seen Chef in anything other than the fitted tees he wore at work, but he was in a similar shirt as the other two, and the wrinkled sleeves were rolled to expose his heavily tattooed forearms.
Dr. Pierce stormed in after them. “I said to wait in the hallway.”
The only one who responded was Chef with a shrug.
The doctor’s focus went to me. “You still doing okay? Need them to leave?”
All three men turned to glower at the older man, but he didn’t blink.
It was impressive.
“Yeah. I mean, no. It’s okay.” I mumbled slowly, still not entirely convinced it wasn’t a dream.
Something beeped, and he checked his pocket. “I’ll be back. Kick them out if you need rest.” He turned his stern expression on the men. “A quick visit, that’s it.”
As the doctor left, Chef made himself at home by taking the stool and wheeling it close. “How’re you feeling?”
“Chef—”
“Freddy,” he interjected. Last time he’d said that, he’d almost immediately rescinded the offer.
My focus flitted to the other side as Cole set a messenger bag on a rolling table before dragging an uncomfortable-looking plastic chair from the wall. He positioned it against the bed. Any closer, and he would’ve had to stack it on top of me.
“Uh…” My brain still worked to process that they were there.
Marco was the only one who kept his distance. Standing at the foot of the bed, he scanned up my body until his narrowed gaze reached my own. His jaw unclenched, and his angry expression melted to something soft.
Not just soft for him.
Actually soft.
“How do you feel?” Cole tried that time since I hadn’t answered Chef—er, Freddy. He didn’t look angry. Not like he had for the previous month. But he had a firmness in his tone that I wasn’t used to hearing from him. Or anyone else, really. One that demanded a response.
I swallowed hard.
For the first time since I’d woken up, I stopped thinking about each thing as a separate occurrence.
That I was there.
That I was in pain.
That Alex had found me somewhere.
That I’d had surgery.
And that I couldn’t remember any of it.
Everything caught up to me at once, and I whispered, “I don’t know.”
Then I burst into tears.
Cole
Fuck, she was killing me.
We’d stayed in the office, none of us wanting to leave as we waited for the few updates we got. It wasn’t until he’d snuck us up the transport elevator to visit Callie that Pierce shared she’d been stabbed.
Fucking stabbed .
A few months ago, a stabbing wouldn’t have set off alarm bells. They weren’t rare occurrences.
But that was before the string of murders—including Mila’s bitch mother. It was no wonder the Moonlight and the hospital were filled with law enforcement. I’d thought there’d be cops in her room, but there weren’t.
Just that damn chef.
At her sudden tears, I shifted to get closer to her, but I was too late. Marco rounded the bed and pushed himself between Callie and me to sit on the edge of the mattress. Carefully, he gathered her in his arms while moving her as little as possible.
She turned her head and buried her face in his shirt as she took a shaky inhale. The sobs were bad enough, but they quickly changed to sad, silent tears that ripped at my soul.
Heart-fucking-breaking.
Freddy reached out from his position on the rolling stool to brush the wild hair that’d escaped her braid away from her face, careful to avoid the bandage on her forehead. I did the same from my side, unsticking the strands from her wet cheeks before dropping my hand to rub her back.
And Marco held her gently with his mouth pressed to the top of her head, murmuring soothing words.
It wasn’t something I would expect from the grumpy asshole. Or any of us. Graphic threats of retribution were easy enough, but I was out of my element with the tenderness. It wasn’t like I had a lot of experience.
That didn’t mean I was going to stop since it seemed to help.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, giving her time. As I stroked upward, my hand collided with Freddy’s when he brought his down her neck. My gaze shot from Callie to him, and his did the same, meeting mine across the bed.
His brows were pinched as his dark blue eyes seared into mine. Neither of us moved for a few long beats, our hands touching Callie and each other.
I didn’t try to sort through what was happening. It wasn’t the time.
Like when Freddy had rested his hand on my leg in Pierce’s office, I took the reassurance of his touch before resuming my path up and down Callie’s back.
Her tears came slower and slower. With her eyes closed, I thought she’d fallen asleep until her body went tight under my palm. She barely muffled a hiss.
All three of us instantly yanked our arms away in case we were the cause.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Just hurts. And I’m tired. Thank you for visiting, but you can go.”
“Close your eyes and rest,” Marco ordered softly, returning his hold.
She tried to dodge him, but it didn’t work. “Really, you can leave.”
“No.”
She tilted her head to look at him with wide eyes. They narrowed into a glare. Before she could say anything, a clatter of heavy steps and people talking over each other came from the hallway.
Callie used the distraction to extricate herself from his hold. Marco didn’t look happy about it. He also didn’t get up to give her the space she was trying to get.
A man in a suit started to enter the room when a nurse dodged to the side to get in first. She turned to square off with him. “The doctor already said you need to wait.”
He looked surprised to see us there but used it to his advantage. “If she feels up to visitors, she can answer a few questions.”
Callie let out a whimper, and I pulled my focus from the man to watch as her face went pale. She scrambled to close the minimal distance she’d just forced between her and Marco.
It wasn’t that he was some intimidating law enforcement officer who terrified her. It was more than that.
It was personal.
I stood, and the guy’s hand immediately dropped to his waistband.
“Who the fuck…?” I started anyway before I got a better look at the familiar man.
Only when I’d seen him, he’d been a chipper guard at Eternal Sun.
Ash wasn’t kidding when he said the guy’s a good actor.
Instead of creepily happy, he looks like a miserable dick.
I was about to ask what the FBI agent was doing there when Callie whispered, “I won’t go back.” Her shoulders rose and fell as her breaths came in fast pants. “I won’t. You can’t make me.”
A rapid beeping sounded from the machine over her head, and the nurse called for help. More people rushed in. We tried to move to give them space to work, but Callie wouldn’t allow it. She clutched Marco like her life depended on it. Not just him. She reached up to take my hand and tug me down before flinging her arm behind her to grab at Freddy.
Like she was trying to protect us.
What the hell?
“It’s okay,” I told her. “We’ve got you. He’s not?—”
The man ignored us and the nurse’s orders to shout above the chaos. “I’m not Michael. I’m Agent Nash.”
Callie froze. “What?”
He pulled out a badge. “I’m not Michael. I’m not Eternal Sun. I never was.”
That didn’t do a fuckuva lot to reassure me. He was still the same asshole who’d tried to tie the loose strings of flimsy coincidences into a noose around Ash’s neck. But it was enough for Callie.
The machine stopped beeping, and the nurses checked her over.
“Her stitches tore. Everyone out.” The nurse scowled at the suit and snapped, “This is why we said to wait.”
We got the hell out of the way to stand outside the closed door. One of the nurses had pulled a curtain so we couldn’t see anything through the little window.
Marco scanned the hall. “Where the hell did that asshole go?”
I didn’t know, and right then, I didn’t care.
The nurses streamed out, and the first one stopped to speak to us. “Her stitches didn’t pop, but she did aggravate the incision with her movements. She’s asleep now. You can go back in when she wakes up.” She narrowed her gaze. “ If she says so.”
Marco looked ready to argue, but I nudged him and said, “We’ll wait.”
A couple of hours later, the nurse came to where we’d set up in the room with the vending machines. “Callie’s awake and said you can come in.”
We followed her down the hall and were nearly to the room when she turned to randomly say, “She wants to see you.”
It felt good to hear, but it didn’t make a fuck-ton of sense since we were already heading there.
I didn’t have to ask when the agent joined our group.
Why the hell does she want to see him? He’s the one who caused this.
We stepped inside to see her sleepily watching the door.
“You okay?” Marco took his spot on the side of the bed.
She nodded. “Better, thanks.”
Freddy pulled the blanket over her before sitting on the mattress to sandwich her between them. I was tempted to position myself at the front of the bed to block her there, too, but I returned to my chair.
The nurse made sure Callie had the call button, then told Nash, “You have a few minutes.”
Once she left, Callie gave the agent her focus as she launched in. “If you’re not Michael, who are you?”
He showed his badge again. “Agent Nash.”
“Why were you at Eternal Sun?”
“I was undercover.”
“But why?” She sat forward, and I glanced at the monitor to see her heart rate ticking up, but it wasn’t at dangerous levels.
I kept an eye on it anyway.
“I can’t discuss it,” the agent said.
“Are people there okay? Are my parents safe?”
“The members are fine.”
She sank back but eyed him like she didn’t believe a word out of his mouth.
Smart.
Another man came into the room. “I thought you were going to call before you came here,” he muttered to Nash with a pissy snarl before turning to us. He didn’t look happy about being left out as he held up a different badge.
Not an FBI agent.
A Vegas cop.
Nash didn’t look happy, either, as he gestured to the bed. “These gentlemen work for Black Resorts. And this is Calliope. A member of Eternal Sun.”
“ Former member,” she quickly corrected.
It didn’t matter. The man’s confusion at our presence turned to alertness, and he studied her carefully. “I’m Detective Boden. Do you feel up to answering some questions?”