Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Pacing the hospital hallway, I look at my phone for the fifth time in half an hour. Impatient as hell, I send another text.
No reply.
My hand curls into a fist and I have to walk away from the wall to keep from putting a serious hole in it.
When I round the corner, Griffon Kane is standing a few feet from the hospital exit. We stare at each other, crackling with the same deadly energy.
“Any word?” he rasps.
I shake my head and walk the length of the corridor again.
This continues until Agent Torres inserts his tall frame in front of my boots.
He looks grim.
“Why are you here?” I demand, pushing my hands into my pockets .
“I was checking on my men.”
Bastard put guards outside the emergency department treatment room where Adam Hill’s being worked on.
Not that I could get in there with all the people and equipment, but it pisses me off that my intent is so transparent.
He glances down the hallway toward Griff. “Don’t know which of you two I should worry about more.”
Good. Keep him guessing.
I lean against the wall and cross my arms.
Torres does the same on the opposite wall.
“Are you just going to stand there to make sure I don’t get into trouble?”
One side of his mouth hitches up, lifting his dark mustache. “You’re smart.”
I tip my chin. “We’ll see who is more so.”
“You can’t just threaten that man’s life and expect me to let you…”
“Didn’t threaten his life.”
He chuckles darkly. “It’s in the eyes, man. Words are petty. It’s the quiet ones with cold eyes that you have to worry about.”
I just give him a flat stare.
He laughs again even though nothing about this situation is fucking funny. I’m so blinded by rage, I’m surprised I’m not smoking out of my ears.
He casually pulls out his wallet. “Let me buy you a coffee?”
Keep thy enemy close?
I like Torres. I don’t like him impeding my own brand of justice.
I nod toward Giff. “You buying him one too?”
“Yeah, get his Delta Force ass and meet me in the cafeteria.”
I shove off the wall and stride to the other end of the building where Griff is scaring the staff with his crazy muttering and death scowls.
He stops in his tracks. “Any word?”
“Torres is buying coffee. Come on.”
Griff’s eyes turn to slits. “He’s not getting rid of me.”
I turn and walk away. “Me either.”
In the cafeteria, Agent Torres is holding court with a few nurses. Shit, that didn’t take him long. He says something to them and the three women toss frowns our way before heading off. But not before one of them passes him a piece of paper.
“What was that about?”
He lifts his brows. “I told them I needed to go take your asses to jail, and I’d have to come back another day.”
“They looked like they’d haul us out in a trash bin if you asked them to.”
Again Torres grins. “Never piss the nurses off.”
Griff takes a cup of offered coffee.
Torres passes me one and motions toward the table by the windows.
I’m not up for a fireside chat, but questions have been pressing in on me for hours. Torres will have the answers.
Griff looks like he’s seconds away from stuffing his fist into someone’s face. Mine or Torres’s, I don’t know.
I get it. The man lying in that hospital room hurt his little sister. The same man I’m determined to make pay. Through legal channels or through other means. I don’t care.
Torres stirs a pack of sugar into his paper cup and leans back in his chair. “She’s going to have to press charges. ”
Griff’s fingers tighten around his cup, threatening to crumple the shape of it. I keep my hands on my thighs, but I also clench them.
I’m the first to speak. “I don’t want her to testify.”
“I get that.” Torres nods. “No one wants someone they love go through that.”
I take a drink of the craptastic coffee, trying to wash down the acid churning through me. “Is there any other way… you know, some other option here in Vandemora?”
He considers his words as he stares into his cup. “There could be. I’ve been thinking about something.”
My phone dings in my pocket. “Excuse me, I need to talk with my team.”
By talk, I mean text as there’s no guarantee a fucking signal is going to work here. I stand up from the table and move to the other end of the room.
Justice: Sorry, I was driving. Bad signal.
Me: Driving where?
Justice: The Professor is taking me to the next cave for recon. Beast put me on this.
Worry slices through me.
Me: Who is with Aria?
Three little dots appear, they blink. And blink. And blink.
Me: Repeat, where is Aria?”
Justice: At the farm.
I run down the mental list of our men. Beast is in a meeting in Karma. We’re two men short. Justice knows better than to leave a sedated woman alone.
Which means if Justice isn’t at the farm, then that leaves the Russians.
Agent Torres and Griff whip their heads in my direction as I shove between two tables, knocking a chair over in my haste.
“I’ve got to get to back.”