Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC 4)

Especially Raven and Flick.

Uncle Jack was in a chair by the window when we walked in. He looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep but he smiled tiredly at Flick when she moved forward to give him a tight hug. “Hey there, darlin’.”

My gaze went around the room. Trigger sat in a hard-looking chair beside the narrow little hospital bed where Hawk was sprawled out with Gracie tucked close around him. My brother looked better than he had the day before. He wasn’t pale as death and his breathing was steady as he held onto Gracie for dear life.

Gracie, on the other hand, still looked bad. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face pale and covered in sweat, making me wonder how high her fever was. The heart monitor showed us that her heart rate was high and her breathing looked just as fast. Blood poisoning—or sepsis as Raven had told me when I’d called her last night—was dangerous. It could shut down her entire body because it attacked the organs. The doctor had wanted to admit her into the ICU, but because Hawk and Uncle Jack had refused to leave her side for even a second, the doctor had put her in a private room figuring she would get better faster if she was surrounded by people who made her feel safe.

Because of the gunshot wound, the cops had been called. It was the protocol for those things. We all knew it and had already had the story straight before the first cop started questioning us the night before. We’d stuck to the truth…minus a few details.

Uncle Jack had told the cops that Santino’s men had taken his granddaughter because we were rivals back in California. We’d come out to New York to get her back and had found her with the gunshot wound. When the three cops had kept asking questions, I’d called Ciro and then handed the phone over to the cop who seemed to be in charge. They had left a few minutes later, apologizing for taking up so much of our time.

“Did he take his antibiotics?” Flick asked Uncle Jack.

“Gracie asked him to and he took them without any arguing,” the old man assured her with a weak smile. “He’s been out for about six hours now. Seems to be getting better, but she just keeps getting sicker.”

I moved toward the bed and shook Hawk’s leg. My brother’s head snapped up immediately. “What?” he grumbled.

I nodded my head toward the door. I wanted to talk to him alone before I told the others what Jenkins had said.

Hawk grimaced and then turned to brush a kiss over Gracie’s sweaty brow. “When’s the last time they came in to check on her?” he asked Trigger.

“About an hour ago. They switched out her fluids and replaced the bag of antibiotics. Nurse said it could take another day or two before the antibiotics did their job.” Trigger shrugged his shoulders. “Her heart rate has been rising for the last thirty minutes and her blood pressure has been pretty high every time that automatic thing checks it.”

“Flick, do you mind getting a washcloth and wiping her face?” Hawk’s voice was soft, his eyes pleading. It was a drastic change to how he’d looked at her just the day before.

She gave him a sad smile. “I don’t mind. You go talk to Jet. I’ll take care of your Gracie.”

He swallowed hard, twice, before nodding and kissing Gracie again. He moved slowly while getting up, his body tense with pain as he stretched his back and shoulder. Muttering a curse, he followed me out into the hall.

Nurses and a few doctors were everywhere so I moved into the waiting room at the end of the corridor and shut the door behind us. Luckily there wasn’t anyone else in there. Hawk scrubbed his hands over his face and glanced at the vending machine a few times before turning his full attention to me. “News?”

I nodded. “Cir

o called. Morgan had a heart attack. He’s dead.”

“Motherfucker. I was looking forward to gutting that bastard.” He shook his head. “What did you tell Ciro to do?”

“Told him to go home and get some sleep. The body is still at the warehouse,” I assured him.

“What about the other Morgan? What did Ciro do with him?”

“He’s probably a tub of goo by now, brother. You know Ciro uses acid to get rid of bodies.” Ciro was an expert on making people disappear. He used acid to get rid of the bodies and then poured the soup that was left into the Hudson. If he was trying to send a message, he usually saved a part—or three—and sent it to the guy’s loved ones wrapped up like a present.

“Ciro’s no fun,” Hawk muttered under his breath.

“Ciro doesn’t let emotion rule him. You were going on pure rage yesterday. He saved your dumb ass.” I wasn’t going to lie. When Ciro had changed the plans at the last minute, keeping Hawk with him, I’d come close to hugging the guy. Hawk’s head hadn’t been on straight and I knew he would have gotten himself killed.

“Okay. So Morgan is dead and I don’t get to slit his throat. Anything else? I need to get back to Gracie.” He gave me an impatient glare.

I blew out a tired breath. “Jenkins has been trying to get hold of you. I called him back to see what he needed. He found a loophole in Craig Morgan’s will that he thought you might think was interesting.”

“So? I don’t give a fuck about that fucker’s money. It nearly cost me my female,” he growled.

I shrugged. “Jenkins thought that maybe, since there’s this loophole and Gracie has always been set on paying her own way, that you would want to give her this chance at full independence.”

Hawk’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the loophole?”

“If Morgan died before Gracie married, the money would automatically revert to her. The old man is dead, Hawk. Of natural causes. All Jenkins has to do is act on her behalf and show the lawyers his death certificate. The money is hers. She deserves it after what those bastards did to her.”