Chapter 28
Vincent
It was early afternoon by the time I arrived in Missoula.
As eager as I was to question the man who’d tried to kill Nathan and who’d hurt Brody and Reese, I needed to check on Everett first. I hadn’t been completely honest when I’d given Nathan an update on Reese’s condition.
I’d heard the despair in Everett’s voice, and while I knew he had some support in the form of Agent Nash and Ronan, I knew it wasn’t enough.
The hospital was quiet and the man who’d picked me up from the airport – another of Ronan’s men – led me past the information desk and straight to the third floor.
I’d expected him to take me to Reese’s room, but instead, he showed me to what looked like a small conference room.
Nash was standing stiffly outside the door.
Ronan’s man bid me farewell, leaving me and Nash alone.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Is Everett in there?”
Nash nodded. “He is.”
I glanced around us. “Why isn’t he in Reese’s room?” Panic flared in my belly. “Did something-”
“No,” Nash quickly interrupted. He dropped his voice. “His son asked him to leave.”
“What?” I asked, not sure I’d heard him correctly.
“When Reese woke up and saw him…” Nash hesitated and dropped his eyes. “It wasn’t pretty.”
Anger simmered through me. “Thanks,” I said to Nash as I opened the door.
Everett looked up at me from where he and Ronan were in deep conversation.
My steps faltered as I took in Everett’s disheveled appearance.
His rumpled clothes were the same ones he’d been wearing yesterday and his hair was all over the place, like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over.
His eyes were swollen and red, proof he’d been crying.
I walked over to him and instead of sitting down next to him, I crouched in front of him. I put my hand on his arm. “Talk to me,” I murmured.
The only time I’d ever seen Everett like this had been the few times he’d gotten drunk and allowed himself to truly mourn the loss of my brother. He’d always hidden his grief behind closed doors otherwise.
“They…they aren’t sure if he’ll be able to walk again,” Everett whispered, his voice hoarse.
“He’s strong, Ev. Look at everything he’s been through. Gets that from his father,” I said softly.
Everett nodded and wiped at his eyes.
“What about his other injuries?” I asked. “The burns.”
“They’re mostly on his chest and arms,” Ronan said. “He’ll need skin grafts. It’s going to be a long recovery process.”
My stomach rolled violently, but I managed to quell the urge to vomit. “He’s going to make it, Everett. You’re going to get him home and take care of him.”
Everett began shaking his head. “He won’t let me see him, Vincent. He’s…he’s so angry.”
Frustration went through me as I climbed to my feet. I was heading for the door before I even realized what I was doing.
“Vincent, don’t!” Everett called.
But I ignored him as I left the room. I had one goal in mind.
“What room is he in?” I asked Nash, my voice cold.
“315.”
It took less than a minute to find the room.
The curtains on the glass walls were drawn, so I couldn’t see inside.
I took a deep breath to calm myself before opening the door.
I stilled at the sight of the young man in the bed.
His upper body and arms were wrapped in layers and layers of white bandaging.
There was another bandage around his forehead.
His face was turned away from me at first, but when I stepped farther into the room, he slowly turned to look my way.
“Can I help you?” I heard someone off to my right say.
I glanced at the man I hadn’t noticed at first. I guessed him to be in his early forties or so, with a head of thick, gray hair. He was heavily built. In his hand, he had a cup of water with a straw sticking out of it. He put the pitcher in his other hand down and approached the bed.
“Vincent!” I heard Everett call, though his voice was low. A second later, he was pushing into the room.
Just like that, Reese’s eyes went from pain-filled and tired to sharp and pissed-off.
“Get out,” he said, his cold eyes on his father. “I told you I didn’t want to see you.”
The young man shifted in the bed and immediately stifled a cry of pain. The older man put his hand on Reese’s bandaged shoulder. “Stay still,” he said softly.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” Everett stammered, his voice shaky and uneven. Watching my best friend, one of the most confident, powerful men I’d ever met, transform into an insecure, uncertain man practically before my eyes reminded me why I’d come here.
“Reese, I know you’re hurting-”
“Vincent,” Everett said, but I ignored him.
“Vincent,” Reese repeated. His mouth pulled into a tight frown. “I know you,” he said. “You’re his brother.” His eyes shifted back to his father. “You fucking him now?”
Everett let out a little gasp, and I was striding forward before I even realized what I was doing.
“Don’t,” the man with the gray hair said as he stepped into my path. He was my size and probably had a few extra pounds of muscle on me, but I didn’t care. But it was the calmness in his voice that had me stopping my forward movement.
“He’s in pain,” he said softly. “And he’s scared to death,” he said so quietly that I was likely the only one who’d heard him.
I managed a nod because I knew he was right. My instinct to protect Everett had overridden my common sense. I stepped back and let my eyes settle on Reese. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Thank you for what you did for Brody. It took guts, and because of you, we caught the guy.”
Reese seemed caught off guard by my words. He hesitated for the briefest of moments and then gave me a slight nod. “Please leave,” he said after a moment, before turning his face towards the window again. “All of you.”
The gray-haired man followed us from the room and slid the door closed behind him.
“Gage, this is Vincent St. James,” Ronan said as he motioned to me. The gray-haired man, Gage, shook my hand.
“Thanks for that,” I said as I jerked my chin towards the room.
He nodded. “I’ve partnered with Reese a few times now, so I’m starting to figure out what makes him tick.”
“And this is Everett Shaw,” Ronan said to Gage.
Gage turned his attention to Everett. “Mr. President,” he said quietly as he extended his hand. “I’m sorry, I know how difficult this must be for you. But your son is one of the strongest men I know. He’ll beat this.”
Everett nodded and shook the man’s hand. I noticed that Gage didn’t release Everett’s hand until the older man looked up at him and their eyes connected for several long beats. Only then did he let go of Everett’s hand.
“Gage is going to take you to question the suspect,” Ronan said. “We’re holding him in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city,” he said in a low voice.
I nodded and then looked at Everett. “You going to be okay?”
It took a moment for Everett to respond. He looked dead on his feet. “Fine,” he mumbled.
“Ev, you need to go get some rest. Let Nash take you to a hotel,” I suggested as I glanced at the Secret Service agent whose watchful eyes shifted between our surroundings and Everett.
“Can’t,” Everett said tiredly. “My boy might need me.”
My heart broke for my friend, but before I could say anything, Gage said, “Mr. President, you won’t do Reese any good if you make yourself sick. He may not act like it, but he’s going to need you, sir. He’s going to need you to be strong for him when he can’t.”
Everett was quiet for a moment before he finally nodded. “Okay,” he murmured. “Maybe for a few minutes.”
Ronan nodded to Nash who immediately came up and put his hand at Everett’s elbow, as if to steady him. The agent’s gaze connected with Gage, and I swore I saw a flash of something between them.
Everett allowed Nash to lead him away, but he stopped long enough to say to Gage, “Thank you, Gage. Call me Everett.”
“You’re welcome…Everett,” the other man said with a nod.
Once Everett and Nash were out of sight, Gage turned to me, his expression hardening. “You ready to go?” he asked. “Been waiting all morning to get my hands on the fucker.”
A man after my own heart.
“Lead the way,” I said with a smirk. I cast Ronan a nod over my shoulder as I followed Gage.
Time to do what I did best.
All my cylinders were firing when I walked into the small room that Ronan’s men had stashed the guy in.
He was tied to a chair by both his hands and feet.
A small amount of dried blood was caked on his forehead, probably from where he’d hit the steering wheel when his car had crashed into the ditch.
A considerably larger swath of blood had stained his shirt on the right side of his body, just beneath his armpit.
Since they’d caught the guy hours ago, I had to assume the injury wasn’t life-threatening.
But it sure would work in my favor.
Gage followed me into the room and went to stand against the far wall. We’d agreed on the ride over that it was my show, though Gage had made it clear he wanted a piece of the man.
Vengeance for Reese, probably. I had no clue what his relationship with Reese consisted of, but I suspected it didn’t go beyond friendship considering the way he’d looked at Everett. It was a development I just didn’t have the time to deal with at the moment.
“What’s your name?” I asked as I took my time taking off my watch and sticking it in my pocket.
“It’s fuck you, what’s yours?”