Chapter 10
ARCHER
My face fucking hurts. My jaw sings. My biceps burn. And my heart… weeps. It weeps for the woman who deserves so much more than the shit I’ve offered over the last twenty-four hours.
But my phone? It pings with an alert the instant she walks her ass into the hospital, a favor I asked of a certain computer whiz a while back, because fuck, a man can be forgiven for wanting to know every time his wife is in the ER.
I leave Fletch inside the George Stanley with Doctor Kirk and the unfortunate Morty Presley—and his detached half-leg.
I ride the elevator alone, cross the lobby in silence, and dart onto the sidewalk outside.
Pulling my hat low as I spot those fucking documentary makers hanging out a few doors down, waiting for Chief Mayet and her usual workaholic, stay-back-late routine, I start toward the hospital.
While I’m going, I unlock my phone and dial the topmost number in my call log.
Bringing the device to my ear, I wait just a single ringtone before the line connects.
“This is Harrison.”
“Why is she in the hospital?” I bark. “Is she okay?”
“I believe she’s here for her standard infusion, sir.” His voice is gruff, partially muffled, almost as though he’s covering his mouth to shield his words from others. “She’s not hurt or anything. She came to see a Doctor Cleary so she could get her medicine.”
“Her Factor?” My brows furrow heavily over my eyes, shading them almost as well as my hat. “But she doesn’t need it today. She—”
“She does, actually.” He clears his throat, coughing nervously.
“She didn’t infuse last night, Boss, and she swung by the pharmacy this morning saying how she needed more, because she didn’t have access to her usual stuff.
She was quite…” Uneasy, he releases a soft, almost pained chuckle.
“Impassioned on the subject. She might’ve cussed the pharmacist out. ”
“But—” Fuck. Fuck! “She was supposed to infuse last night!”
He doesn’t respond. He has nothing useful to say.
“I thought she had access to the things she needed,” I groan.
I step off the curb at the end of the first block and weave between almost standstill traffic, crossing over and moving onto the curb on the opposite side.
“I thought she took supplies. If she grabbed new meds this morning at the pharmacy, why is she at the hospital now?”
“She didn’t get them this morning, sir.” Again, with the uncomfortable throat clearing. “She attempted to, but each supply is, evidently, forty-five thousand dollars without insurance.”
“So?”
“So, she tapped her credit card. It declined.”
“Bullshit! Her credit cards are fine.”
“She used her card,” he murmurs. “Not yours.”
“But—”
“I attempted to use the company card, Boss, but she wouldn’t let me.
Then she started cussing everyone out. Pretty sure she hit me, so…
” His sentence ends with a grin, even if he doesn’t laugh out loud.
“She kicked me out just now and demanded her privacy, but I listened anyway, since that privacy was literally just a curtain. She told the other doctor how she was supposed to infuse yesterday, but didn’t, and now she’s a day late and has to do it here.
Doc seems mildly okay about it. Like they’re pals or whatever. ”
Pals.
I suppose they’re pals, in that Nicki is as close to a friend as Minka accepts from anyone. Except Aubree. And sometimes, Christabelle and Tiia.
Halfway along the second block, I cut right and stride under the hospital driveway awning, stepping around a line of ambulances and through the automatic glass doors.
I find Harrison leaning against the wall at the far end of the hall, one foot pressed to the stucco, one arm raised with his phone attached to his ear.
From his vantage point, he has a view of the doors and a view of the ER.
“I’m here.”
Stunned, his eyes swing to mine, and his foot touches the floor.
“Can she see you?”
“No, Boss.” He speaks into the phone, twenty feet still separating us. “She’s got the curtain pulled around.”
I bring the phone away from my ear and end our call, but I lift my chin in summons and wait for his final check in Minka’s direction.
Satisfied, he strides my way, all dark muscle and heavy stares.
At just five-eleven-ish, he’s one of Felix’s smaller soldiers.
Smaller than my brothers and me. Smaller than Agent Hale, even.
But what he lacks in size, he makes up for with intellect and control.
Some men might want brawn and firepower watching over their wives. Personally, I want a man with intelligence and the ability to kill a motherfucker quietly. Calmly. Quickly.
“Boss.” He comes to a stop just two feet away. “She’s secure right now. Not sure how long the infusion takes, but she’s been with Doctor Cleary for about ten minutes already.”
“We still have awhile.” After that, she’s gonna be really fuckin’ tired. Irritable. Bet she didn’t eat first, either. “Anything to report from today?”
He brings his shoulders up, shrugging. “She ordered me to stay outside the George Stanley, so I didn’t catch much of anything that happened while she was inside.
I just made sure she was in the building, and no one entered who shouldn’t have.
If she’d left in search of lunch, I would have escorted her, but that didn’t happen, so… ”
So no lunch. No dinner.
“What did she have for breakfast?”
Guilt flashes in his eyes, his teeth clenching as he realizes his screw-up. “Uh… coffee, Boss. I didn’t realize she required micromanaging at a dietary level. Now I do. I’ll ensure it’s taken care of tomorrow.”
A whole fucking day with nothing in her belly but caffeine. And she probably didn’t have dinner last night, either.
“I’m sorry, Boss. I—”
“It’s fine.” I sweep my hat off and scratch my itchy, sweaty hair, dragging my nails along my scalp and digging in.
I fill my lungs until the tang of antiseptic and death accompany the oxygen in my veins, then, releasing it again, I plop my hat back where it started.
“You didn’t know, and Doctor Emeri is typically around to place food in front of her chief between the hours of nine and five.
” I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “You can go.”
His eyes flare wide, panicked and stricken. “You’re dismissing me? If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to st—”
“I’m giving you an hour.” I press my back against the wall, mimicking his prior posture, and settle in to wait.
“Do whatever you need to do. If she didn’t eat, you probably didn’t either.
Go to the bathroom. Take care of your business.
She’s gonna be laid up here for a bit, and knowing Nicki, she’s not going anywhere for a good long while.
I’ll stay, but out of sight.” I tilt my head toward the doors. “I’ll call you if she’s done earlier.”
He considers for a beat… but takes a step toward the doors. Considers a little longer… another step. Finally, as I bring my foot up against the wall and unlock my phone screen, he drops his chin in a nod and darts through the doors.
“Forty-five thousand dollars is criminal!” Minka snaps from deep inside the ER. “It’s horseshit. What about the folks who can’t get insurance? Or the folks who can’t afford it?”
My lips quirk up on the side, my heart just a little less achy for every angry word Minka bites out. Sadly, my smile drops away when the answer plays in my head, like a fuckin’ drum slamming inside my skull.
They die, babe. Those people die.
Ten minutes after Harrison leaves, I shuffle six feet along the hall, closer to my wife, but still hidden in case she tears her curtain aside and attempts to escape.
Ten minutes after that, I move another six feet.
At the thirty-minute mark, I stop where Harrison started, allowing myself a view of both the entrance and the ER.
And at the fifty-minute mark, when a hand grabs onto her curtain, I shoot out of my meditative state and prepare to run.
Fortunately, Nicki’s is the face that emerges, and like she knew I’d be nearby, her eyes swing to mine and soften, her lips folding down unhappily as she steps out of the small space and pulls the curtain most of the way shut behind her.
I slip my phone and hands into my pockets and wander closer, my throat burning as I peel my focus from my friend and stop on my wife instead.
Asleep. She’s curled onto the uncomfortable stretcher, her hands pressed between her knees and her shoulders hunched from bad posture.
Long lashes kiss her cheeks, and pouty lips droop forward… thick and thoroughly kissable.
But not for me. Not for today.
“Detective.” Nicki doesn’t speak in a whisper, but she sure as fuck doesn’t shout, either.
She meets me halfway across the ER and blocks me from coming any closer.
Dragging gloves off her hands, she bundles the pair and drops them into her pockets.
“I’m surprised to see you here, and yet…
” She shifts, forcing herself into my line of sight.
“Surprised she’s here at all… without you. ”
I can’t help myself. I can’t fucking stop myself; I swing my gaze back to Minka’s sleeping form. Nicki who? “She doing okay?”
“Mmhm. Routine infusion.” She releases a heavy breath, the warm breeze tapping my chin in the otherwise chilled ER. “It’s not my place to pry, Detective, but if you wanna talk about it or whatever…”
Talk to another woman about the temporary breakdown of my marriage? Hard no. “I appreciate you treating her. Shit was getting dicey…” Evidently. “Please send the bill directly to me.” Finally, I peel my focus away from Minka and stop on Nicki. “She’s asleep. Does that mean she’s in for the night?”