Chapter Nine
The hospital isn’t exactly the fresh air I expected.
The chemical tang of disinfectant and antiseptic itches my nose and leaves me fighting the urge to sneeze.
Everywhere I look, I spot the telltale suits of Dax and Aiden’s men.
None of them look our way, likely pre-informed of our arrival, but the amped-up security makes me a little uncomfortable.
We ride the elevator to Tom’s floor in silence with Ben’s sharp-eyed gaze a constant reminder of how badly I behaved at the compound.
He watches intently as I obsessively rub the material of the sports bandage he gave me for my injured wrist. Does he expect me to erupt again? Does he think I’m crazy? Dangerous?
“I’m not going to go off the deep end again. You’re perfectly safe. I’m too damn exhausted to do much more than move my feet,” I say to ease his fear.
“I’m not worried about that. I’m concerned about you.” His tone is gentle, almost apologetic, and the way he looks at me…I guess I look pathetic to elicit such sympathy in a guy who doesn’t give a shit about me.
Humour softens embarrassment, doesn’t it? I try to take the focus off with an off-handed quip. “I take it I look as bad as I feel?”
“You’re as pretty as a picture, just worn out. I should have let you rest back at the house.”
“Nah, getting out is nice.” Not having to explain myself to Dax and Aiden is better. “So, we’re visiting Tom?”
“Yeah. We’ll pick up Sylvie while we’re here too. Two birds with one stone.”
Sylvie? “She’s stayed here at the hospital?” I knew she was visiting Tom, but I didn’t expect her to stay in the hospital. A five-star hotel seems more her style.
“Yeah. Dax didn’t want anyone at the compound while Franz was actively hunting you. The grab they made for you at the coffee shop made him a little overprotective. They sent Sylvie here with half the fucking contingent of guards we keep back at the house.
“So, I wasn’t wrong about the men sitting downstairs? They’re Dax’s guys?”
“Yeah, they’re on every floor. Parking lots. They cover the entrances downstairs, and they’re even in cars across the street.” Ben exaggeratedly rolls his eyes and gives me a soft smile. The second his lips curl up, I realise how he got permission to take me off-site.
“That’s why Dax was happy for me to come with you.”
Ben nods. “I knew it was our best option. This place is more secure than the compound right now. But the sooner we get Princess Trevainne back home, the sooner the compound gets locked up tighter than a nun’s…uh…tightly. Locked up tight.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You don’t have to watch your language with me, Ben.”
He snorts. “I have to watch everything I do around you, Jules. If growing up in the Vale made me a mouse, then it made you a hawk. There’s very little you don’t see…or hear.”
I have to agree with him on that, at least. You either become a predator or prey in the Vale, but he’s wrong about a hawk. I might have the attributes of a predator, but I’ve only ever been prey.
“I didn’t have much choice,” I tell him, knowing his experience will have been the same. “I grew up reading a room, anticipating mood changes, assessing the people around me for intention and lies. My eyes and ears were my protection.”
He leans in and bumps my arm. “We’re the same. Only my observations have always had to be more clandestine.”
“Like a spy?” I ask. From what I’ve seen of Ben, he’d make a great spy. Neither seen nor heard but goes anywhere at any time.
He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly as he shakes his head. “Like a thief.”
A thief? Was that what Frank made him do? He’d mentioned something before, but he wasn’t so direct about it.
“Who’s a thief?” Tom asks light-heartedly.
It’s good to see him sitting up. He has colour in his cheeks, and his hair is freshly washed and styled.
Sylvie must have brought him a few things.
His clothes suit him better than the washed-out hospital gown he wore last time.
He’s clearly been making an effort with himself while she’s been staying.
“Jules,” Ben answers jovially. “She’s stolen my heart.” I blush crimson despite knowing he’s only kidding around. Whether that’s because Tom heard it or because of Ben’s too-intense stare, I don’t know.
“Yours too? She’s clearly skilled at it.” There’s an edge of accusation to Tom’s words, but I can’t figure out if he’s pissed at me or Ben. I’m almost insulted when he backs the words up with a sneer. “What did you do to your hair? Did Dax make you change it?”
“I see you woke up in a bad mood again today,” I snap back then turn to Ben. “I’ll wait downstairs for you.” I swivel on my heel and head for the door, but Ben’s sharp tone stops me.
“No, wait! I need to keep you within eyesight. Dax’s orders.”
I suck in a hard breath to keep my words in my throat instead of letting them fly.
I’ve done enough in anger today, and taking Dax’s over-protectiveness out on Ben wouldn’t be fair, not after what I’ve already done to him today.
I breathe out and turn back around, sitting myself in a nearby plastic chair and offering Ben a nod.
“Oh yeah? And what if she wants to take a piss? Will you need to watch her do that too?” Tom huffs.
For a split-second, I think he might be defending me.
I shoot a wide-eyed glance in his direction, only to find him glaring with clear malice at Ben.
He just wants a fight. Why? Why has he been a punk to everyone who professes to care about him?
“Shut up, you stupid prick. Do you hear yourself? Who are you even mad at? Me, Jules, or Dax?” Ben asks, clearly coming to the same conclusion as I do.
“All of you!” Tom shouts.
“Why?”
“None of you have shown up in the last couple of days. I’m bored out of my mind. I’m ready to come home, and you two just walk in like you’ve known each other forever and barely look up to say hello. Fucking rude.”
Is he jealous? I stay out of the argument. I won’t risk engaging when this really doesn’t feel like a me problem.
Ben seems up for the challenge, though. He mirrors Tom’s aggression and throws it right back. “Get over yourself. What about Sylvie?”
“What about her?”
“She’s been keeping you company, and you barely even acknowledge her existence.”
“She hasn’t come to see me since you were all here together…” A silence swells between them as they both take in the implications of what Tom’s saying. Tom’s passion evaporates quickly. He frowns; his expression eerily similar to the one forming on Ben’s face. “You thought she was here with me?”
“Yes,” Ben replies quietly. I can almost see him thinking over his options. A frown appears so deep his brows almost entirely obscure his eyes.
I ask what we’re all thinking. “If she’s not been here, where is she?”
“Wait here,” Ben commands and rushes from the room. We watch as he speaks in hushed whispers with the guards outside and then vanishes down the hallway.
“It looks like I’ll be here a while.”
“Relax for a minute. Ignore me. I’m in a shitty mood, and it’s no one’s fault but my own,” Tom offers, pulling out his phone and rattling his fingers against the screen at speeds I’ve not seen before.
I wonder if he’s naturally fast or if he spends the day glued to the phone. Practice makes perfect after all.
When he’s done typing, he taps the phone against his chin and stares up at the ceiling in thought.
The silence feels awkward. I don’t know him well enough to be comfortable just sitting around in his hospital room.
The more out of place I feel, the more I need to move or speak.
And moving isn’t a possibility, so— “How’s the convalescence coming along?
Still got that gaping hole in your gut?” I cringe at the sharpness of my words but am relieved when Tom’s mouth curls up into a smirk.
“More like a puckered arsehole now,” he admits.
“It’s all stitched and stapled, and ugly as sin.
The one on my shoulder is a bit more impressive.
” He tugs at the shirt he’s wearing and drops the shoulder so I can see the bandage.
Before I can even warn him not to, he lifts the edge and gives me a view of the wound.
There are staples and stitches holding the torn flesh together.
It’s small but bigger than I expected too and jagged like bursts of lightning flaring out from a single point.
“They had to cut it open a bit to get in there and clean up the mess. So, it’s probably bigger now than it was,” he explains as I stare mutely. “At least it’ll scar in an interesting shape. Bullet scars are boring.”
I nod along. “Nice. Something to talk about at fancy soirees,” I tease.
“Absolutely! Socialites love a gruesome tale,” he teases back. It’s both awkward and refreshing. I’m compelled to keep the easy banter going between us, though I’m not sure why.
“Harrison Socialites do at any rate,” I continue. “Half of them are corrupt as fuck.”
Laughter bursts from Tom as he nods. “At least you know your audience.”
“Not my audience.”
“But they will be one day, right?” he asks. “You are going to Harrison U for Law?”
“I am. Though why would you think that’d move me in the upper echelon of the Harrison elite?” I ask before fully realising what he just revealed.
“Because no one in the Vale wants to stay in the Vale,” Tom responds honestly.
“The way I figure it, you’ll work for a fancy firm, make your name and some money and then decide whether you’ll walk away from the lifestyle you’ve earned to do pro bono shit for the underdogs or stay uptown and snatch up the acclaim. ”
He’s had time to think about his response. “Too much daytime drama for you,” I mumble, but I’m wondering how he knows my plans and when he found out.
“Probably,” he admits, nodding to the wall-mounted TV playing talk shows silently in the background.
“How did you know I had a place at HU?” I ask softly.
“Common knowledge?” He shrugs and avoids my eyes. It’s cagey as hell.