Redeemed (Dirty Air 4)

I smile down at Marko. “Hey, little guy.”

“Hi,” Marko rasps, sitting taller.

“What’s up?” I brush his damp hair away from his forehead and press my hand onto it. “At least he doesn’t feel hot. That’s good news.”

“I go bleh.” Marko scrunches his nose.

“I think his fever broke after he threw up the second time.” Santiago’s breath heats my neck, making me shiver.

Chloe, focus on the child, not the hulking figure behind you.

“I miss Mommy. She kisses me better,” Marko mumbles.

“I know. Mommy wishes she could be here, too. Will you drink some water? It might make you feel better.” I grab the plastic bottle off the nightstand and pass it to him.

Marko snatches it from my hands and sucks on the straw.

I turn to Santiago. “What did you both eat today?”

“Nothing out of the normal. I made our usual pancakes in the morning, pasta for lunch, and then chicken and rice for dinner.”

“And you ate all the same food? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, and I feel fine. The only difference is the snacks he eats, but he’s been having those the entire time he’s been here. He never got sick before.”

I think back to my daycare training. “Any food allergies?”

He tugs at his thick hair. “No. He can eat anything and everything.”

“Then he must have a stomach virus.”

“Uh, Princess?” Marko taps my shoulder.

“Yeah?” I turn to him.

“I don’t feel good again.” His face, even in the dim lighting, loses some of its coloring.

I freeze. “Oh, no! Where’s the bucket, Santiago?”

“Bucket?”

Ugh. Maybe I can get him to the bathroom before—

The water Marko chugged makes a return appearance, and I am not a fan of the encore. It saturates the comforter.

Santiago mumbles something under his breath.

My chest tightens at Marko crying again. I throw the duvet off Marko’s legs and bundle it up on the corner of the mattress.

I cringe as Marko’s wails become ragged coughs. “If he keeps this up, we might need to take him to the hospital.”

“My sister would freak out and rush back here. If you have another idea, I’m all for it.” Santiago’s voice hits a new level of panicky.

“Okay, it’s fine. Relax. Let’s see what happens over the next hour. We should move him to your bed so you can keep an eye on him.” I step out of the way to give Santiago room to grab Marko. Each step he makes is followed by a heavy thud.

I check out the hardware attached to his leg. I’ve never seen anything like it before. His right leg is strapped into some kind of device where he can kneel on a pad attached to a stabilized pole. His knee and stump lie comfortably on the padding, covered by some kind of protective sock.

Marko crawls into Santiago’s waiting arms.