Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)(14)
“Where’re Joe and Kyle?” Gabe asked, the room beginning to spin a little from whatever it was they were giving him for pain.
“Nurse Ratched here wouldn’t let us all come in,” Tom told him, sending the nurse an irritated glance. “They’re out in the hallway with Sadie and Abby.”
Gabe wasn’t too out of it to notice the tightness in his brother’s tone when he mentioned the women. Probably because his own wife’s name was noticeably absent. It’d been three years since Tom’s wife, Carly, had been killed in the line of duty as a DEA agent. And the murderer—a drug lord from Chicago—was serving a life sentence thanks to Tom’s tireless efforts to put the bastard away. But Gabe knew Carly’s loss still weighed heavily on his brother. Tom’s already solemn and intense personality had become doubly so since losing the woman he loved.
“Oh my goodness!”
Everyone’s attention darted to the door, where a woman with unruly, dark, bobbed hair and polka dot scrubs was standing.
“Isn’t this a busy place!” she said with a little giggle. “How’s the patient? Oh, hey, hi!”
Gabe forced himself to focus on the pixie-like face of the doctor who’d come in and was now maneuvering around to the side of the bed where Tom stood.
“Uh, hi,” Tom muttered, looking a little embarrassed by her sudden appearance.
The doctor grabbed Tom’s hand and pumped it vigorously. “It’s so good to see you again! I didn’t realize—oh, Dawson! You two are related, right?”
“Gabe’s my brother,” Tom said, looking like he wanted to sink into the floor. “Nice to see you again, Isabel.”
Was Tom actually blushing? The fuck?
Gabe was way too out of it to try to puzzle through how Tom was acquainted with his doctor—whoever the hell she was—and why her presence was enough to fluster him. But it was definitely something he planned to ask about when the fog cleared.
“Dr. Morales?” the nurse prompted.
The doctor was still shaking Tom’s hand, grinning like crazy, then suddenly seemed to realize what she was doing and dropped his hand with a little laugh. “I’d better take a look at your brother. See how my handiwork is doing. But maybe we could grab coffee later? Catch up?”
Tom ducked his head a little and glanced at the other occupants of the room. “Uh, yeah. Sure.” Then he coughed, clearing his throat, and turned his attention back to his brother. “I’ll check back on you later, Bro.”
His father patted Gabe lightly on the shoulder, his normally stoic expression cracking a bit with emotion. But the Old Man covered it well—as usual—and just gave Gabe a curt nod before turning and leaving the room.
“Well, that wasn’t awkward at all,” the nurse said, sharing a glance with Gabe.
Dr. Morales washed her hands and grabbed a couple of latex gloves from a box hanging on the wall. “I haven’t seen Tom in years, Wanda,” she said rather wistfully. “Not since the incident in the ER.” But before the doctor could explain what she was talking about, she gave Gabe a bright smile. “So, how are you feeling, Deputy Dawson?”
“Like I got shot,” Gabe drawled, sleep creeping in as the nurse moved the sheet off of his leg so that the doctor could take a look. “How ’bout you?”
As sleep dragged him under, he heard the doctor’s giggle, heard her say something in reply, but he couldn’t quite make it out and was too tired to bother trying…
*
It was dark when Gabe awoke for the second time. At least, it felt like he was awake, but he wasn’t quite sure. The edges of his vision were blurry and the room seemed to swim a little. His body felt light, almost like he was floating—or maybe just threatening to. For a brief, panicked moment, he wondered if he was dead, if the floating sensation was his soul drifting away. But then the dull pain in his leg made him realize he was still very much alive.
He sighed, relieved, and was letting his lids close again when he realized he was not alone in the room.
His eyes snapped open, his senses suddenly alert as he battled through the fog of sleep and painkillers to try to figure out who the hell was in there with him. He tried to sit up. Couldn’t. His body, so light just a moment before, now seemed to weigh a ton and wouldn’t respond to his command.
“Who’s there?” he managed to croak out, his throat dry and scratchy, making the question sound more like a growl.
The shadows in the room shifted a little and a figure slowly moved into the small pool of light cast by the various monitors. And he recognized the face immediately. His pulse quickened in a mixture of fear and anger, but still his body wouldn’t respond. The monitors began to beep like crazy again, but Nurse Wanda didn’t barge in this time. He was alone. With the father of the man who’d tried to kill him.
“Get the fuck out,” Gabe spat.
Jeb Monroe tsked and shook his head. “Such vulgarity,” he drawled, sounding to Gabe’s ears as if he was under water. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to hear such language from a dirty pig who will lie down with any whore.”
“Nurse!” Gabe yelled as he reached for the call button, keeping his gaze locked on the crazy son of a bitch walking toward him. His fingers fumbled, his body not cooperating as a result of the pain meds, and the device tumbled from the edge of the bed.