In Rides Trouble (Black Knights Inc. #2)(68)

“You must be Ozzie,” Michelle laughed, then as she made her way around the waiting room at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in order to shake the hands of the Knights who’d gathered there to wait for Boss to get out of surgery.

“And you must be Wild Bill.” She came to stand in front of him, extending a long, elegant hand. “I’m very glad to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he replied hoarsely, still coughing, still having trouble believing…

He was just about to open his mouth to ask her if he’d heard her right, if she was really Boss’s sister when his own sister breezed through the door, weighed down with an armful of snacks from the vending machine.

Becky stumbled to a halt when her eyes lighted on Michelle. A bag of Cool Ranch Doritos fell to the floor.

“Becky,” he said, bending to retrieve the chips, “this is—”

“I know who she is,” Becky interrupted, her eyes glued to Michelle’s face.

“You do?” he asked, perplexed.

“Yeah.” She nodded, pasting on a smile. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He glanced at Michelle. Okay, so she and Boss did share the same eyes and similar hair coloring, but that’s where the similarities ended. Because Michelle was the beauty to Boss’s beast.

“I guess it is.” He scratched his ear.

“You must be the amazing Rebecca Reichert.” Michelle went to shake Becky’s hand but was thwarted by the mound of snacks.

Becky walked to the plastic coffee table pushed in front of the sofa where four of the Knights were lounging. She dropped her load on its surface, bracing herself on its edge for a second as if she was dizzy, before coming back to take Michelle’s hand. “Call me Becky,” she said. Her voice gruff.

Bill peered at her closely but could read nothing on her face. Something was wrong with his sister…

Probably just nerves over Boss’s surgery combined with too much caffeine, he assured himself with a mental shrug.

“Mama, mama!” A little boy about three years of age came running into the waiting room, the soles of his tiny sneakers lighting up with each step, a Chicago Cubs baseball cap pushing his ears out from his head. “Can I eat it? Can I?” He was holding a bite-sized Hershey’s candy bar as if it were the Olympic flame.

“Sorry.” A nurse scurried after him. “He saw the basket of candy sitting on my desk, and I just couldn’t resist his little face.”

Michelle bent and scooped the boy into her arms. “It’s perfectly fine. What do you say, Franklin?” she prompted, and Bill turned to his sister when he heard her drag in a strangled breath. She immediately started coughing, and he reached over, pounding her on the back.

“You aren’t coming down with anything, are you?” he asked.

“No.” She waved him off as she struggled to catch her breath, staring at the little boy in Michelle’s arms.

“Thank you,” Franklin dutifully told the nurse before turning and catching his mother’s cheeks between his dimpled hands. “Now can I eat it?”

“May I eat it.”

Bill watched Franklin’s little chest expand on a deep sigh of exasperation. “May I eat it?”

“Yes you may,” Michelle grinned, “but first I want to introduce you to some nice folks.” She turned toward the group, rolling her eyes when the bundle of energy suddenly turned shy and tucked his head under her chin, peering out at the gathering of strangers. “Everybody, this is Franklin. Say hello, Franklin.”

“H’lo,” Franklin mumbled, refusing to look at any of them, his candy bar suddenly an object of intense study. Bill noticed the kid had the same eyes as his mother. The same eyes as Boss. Obviously, they were a family trait.

“Mr. Knight is ready for visitors,” a short, plump nurse in pink scrubs announced from the doorway.

“Oh good.” Michelle hoisted her purse higher on her shoulder, positioned Franklin on her hip, and started following the nurse down the hall. The Black Knights trailed behind her like a line of train cars, Becky slowly bringing up the caboose. “Can you believe that loser had himself convinced he was going to die?” Michelle threw over her shoulder, helping Franklin tear open his candy bar wrapper.

“What?” It was Christian who asked the question they were all thinking.

“Oh yeah. He’s only been given general anesthesia once, as a kid, and it nearly killed him. Did kill him, as a matter of fact. He died on the operating table, but they were able to bring him back. I guess that’s a given, huh?” She chuckled again. “Anyway, apparently he metabolizes narcotics in a weird way, and it’s easy for him to overdose. Ever since then, he’s been petrified to go under again.”

Hmm, well that would explain—

“I, uh, I…I forgot I’m supposed to meet Eve,” Becky announced from the back of the line.

“What’d you say, sis?” Bill asked as the group stopped to turn and look at her.

“Yeah, I…I’ll just pop in to visit Frank later. But, uh…but until then, you all give him my best. Tell him I’m glad everything turned out.” She smiled, her face white as a sheet, before spinning around and marching in the opposite direction, her hands fisted at her sides, her back straight.

What in the world was wrong with her? Was she coming down with something?