CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Eric
Harper and I approach the ICU nurse’s station to be greeted by a new face, a woman I estimate to be around thirty, wearing scrubs, her brunette hair pulled to her nape. “Can I help you?” she asks.
“Kingston,” I say. “How is he?”
“And you are?” she asks, her lips pursing prudishly.
“His son,” Harper states as if she knows I can’t stomach those necessary words. God, I fucking love this woman.
The nurse frowns. “I just met his son and—”
“I’m the other one,” I say. “How is he?”
“You don’t look like your brother.”
“Thank the fuck for that,” I murmur.
“They’re half brothers,” Harper quickly chimes in. “Call someone if you need to. We need an update.”
I arch a brow at the nurse and she hesitates but gives us the information. “He’s improved this morning. We moved him to a private suite one floor up.”
In a suite, where he will be easier to get to for me and everyone else, I think.
“Define improved?”
“We took him off life support.”
“Is he speaking?”
“No, I’m sorry. He hasn’t regained consciousness.”
She offers us instructions and we rejoin Savage in the lobby. “A little update,” Savage offers. “We caught the FBI consultant asshole on film. We followed the street cameras and know where he got into a cab. We’re working to track him that way.”
“What about the woman?” Harper asks.
“She disappeared. We never caught her on camera. I assume she used a wig and change of clothes to pull that off, which makes me surprised the guy didn’t do the same.”
“That’s odd,” Harper says. “Why wouldn’t he?”
I spare us all that debate, right here and now. “Contemplate it upstairs in my father’s suite.”
“He’s not there yet,” Savage says. “I just got word that they’re moving him in fifteen minutes. Whoever told you he was gone now, was confused.”
My brows dip. “Or they wanted to talk to me alone, in my father’s suite.” I kiss Harper. “Stay with Savage. I’ll be right back.”
“Stay with Jesse,” Savage rebuts and waves Jesse in our direction. He eyes me. “I’m going with you.”
“Stay with Harper,” I say. “This could be a ploy to get me apart from her. I want her safe.”
“And what about you?” Harper asks. “Who protects you?”
“Me,” I say, eyeing Savage. “I could kick his ass, and then some,” I promise.
He snorts. “Let’s spar, man. Name the day and place.”
“Eric,” Harper pleads. “Just let him go with you.”