Page 76 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

Chapter thirty-seven

Babel

I hate hospitals.

Soul-sucking buildings that drain your bank account at every turn.

Whether it’s through the procedures and costs to be seen, life saving or preventative, or via these fucking snack machines that eat your money and refuse to spit out your chips.

Being centered enough to not break things, which is paying off, I glare through the fingerprint smudged glass at the bag of Lays resting in its slot.

‘ Thank you for your purchase ’ blinks in red on the tiny screen, indicating my purchase was successful.

The lack of chips in my mouth is two seconds away from being the straw that broke the camel's back.

Sadie just came out of a four hour surgery and is currently in the recovery room. The nurses told me it would be a little bit before the anesthesia wears off and I should get something to eat and drink to keep my energy up—or something along those lines.

“Sir, please take a walk. We can’t work if you’re hovering the way you are. She’s alive and comfortable. Keep interfering and you’ll force me to call security and remove you from the building.”

Same difference.

Now I’m being antagonized by a damn vending machine.

A little boy rushes up to the one next to me, bounding around as he waits for an adult to help him.

Hands and face pressed to the glass, at least that confirms where the smudges on the window come from.

Twisting slightly, my shoulders turn his way a smidgen, observing his behavior curiously.

“Those, mama. I want the Skittles.”

She steps up behind him, purse hanging onto her shoulder by a single strap.

A hand holding the other while she digs through the bag.

Completely unaware of her surroundings—dangerous.

That’s a problem with the younger generations; so absorbed in their small worlds they forget about safety then end up on a milk carton.

Which is why my job exists and won’t be going away anytime soon, from the looks of it.

Hell, I would say the same with Sadie but she comes pre-programmed with an anti-theft device.

She still gets picked up but she’s going to take you down with her, two birds one stone you could say.

Defeats the purpose, but knowing she’ll fight anyone to stay breathing is admirable.

Other girls, like this young mother here, were never taught survival. That’s all Sadie knows.

“Machine takes your money, might want to get your snacks elsewhere,” I interject.

The woman jumps, her head snapping my direction when she hears me. A deer in the headlights look in her expression, typical. My comment doesn’t deter the boy from drooling over the possibility of candy, still glued to the front of the machine as if willing the bag of sugar to miraculously drop.

“Apologies; didn’t mean to startle you. As I said, machine takes your money.”

“I… uhm, thank you. Honey, come on. The man says the machine isn’t working.”

“Ahhhhh, but mama, Skittlesssssss,” he whines.

She grabs his hand and walks off, pulling him along with her.

Getting one more look at me over her shoulder before they disappear around the corner.

This world is ass backwards. Give someone a warning to save them the same annoyance I just experienced, and they look at you like you’re the monster who did them wrong in the first place.

Should have let her put her money in the damned thing.

Returning to the machine, the bag of Lays mocks me behind the protective barrier.

“Next time, fucker. I’ll buy you just to throw you in the trash.”

I need to get back to Sadie anyway, doubt she has roused from the medication.

But if she has, I need to make sure she doesn’t bite someone and rip the flesh off the innocent person's body.

That would be one hell of a mess to clean up.

This job has gone sideways entirely too many times for her to go assaulting hospital staff.

The walk back to the recovery wing isn’t too long, just too fucking quiet.

The only thing accompanying me, besides the soft thuds of my boots, is the sudden chirp of my phone.

Pulling it from my pocket to see notifications on the small window, a few texts from Mav and a few emails with my next job sit there waiting for me to access them.

The Wilson case was supposed to be in and out, but shit changes— she happened.

I’ll look at that shit later.

Returning my phone to my pocket, I’m finally at the door leading into the recovery wing.

A button looms on the right side, embedded in the wall with a note hanging over it that says ‘ press me for access .’ A little sad that every action people need to take has to be spelled out to them—let the weak weed themselves out.

Stabbing it with my finger, I wait for the low click to tell me the door has been unlocked.

Nurses are still roaming around Sadie once I’m back.

The light above her is dimmed but it’s still too bright for her sensitive eyes.

Her face is scrunched in pain, both eyes squeezing so tight the skin at the corners crinkle.

Fair colored brows, just a shade or two darker than her hair, are furrowed as well.

She’s relaxed with her arms likely bandaged and tucked under her blankets to keep her warm.

This vision of her lacks the weight of darkness which sometimes looms over her.

Then the peaceful yet annoyed look she’s giving has got to be her true personality shining through—she has her mother’s feistiness.

I’ve only witnessed it a brief time or two between moments where she shuts down and hides the person she really is.

I’m no doctor, her issues are far beyond where my capabilities lie, but there’s got to be a way she makes it through this—the insanity.

Standing watch outside of her room, a silent sentry forbidding anyone from coming within ten feet of the delicate girl inside, I wait…

and wait… and wait. A nurse informed me that I could join her just inside the drawn curtain, seats available for me to choose from, but I didn’t.

My duty is out here, keeping her safe from the things I can see, from the shit I can fight.

I just hope the things loitering in her head stay put, at least until we get the hell out of here.

“Took your ass long enough to call me. The fuck have you been doing?”

The medical staff just finished wheeling Sadie into her new room when Havok texted me, telling me he was on his way out to grab supplies. There isn’t much that we need, except probably something else to put down on the floor to catch anymore blood he may or may not beat out of Lucien.

Havok’s interesting, to put it mildly. Night and fucking day when you get him near Nadia and Sadie—even then he switches.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he also deals with some personality disorder; unfortunately, I do know better.

Still not a doctor, but I recognize the signs of anxiety after seeing it too many times on the battlefield.

The man is scared to lose them again, understandably.

Had it been me and my family in his shoes, I would raze empires to get them back.

Lucien’s existence keeps him agitated, and when that happens he goes anxious. Can see it in how quickly his mood shifts and his body vibrates with a violent kind of energy that needs an immediate release. If not, it may hurt the women he’s spent so much effort on finding and bringing home.

Plainly put, the guy is terrified of his family disappearing or dying.

“None of your fucking business. How’s the girl?” Havok spits through the phone, hearing a door closing behind him when he goes quiet. Expecting a full report like some sort of general.

“Alive, sleeping. Just got to her room. Number four twenty-seven.” Concise and efficient. Answers the current question, and the one’s coming.

“Good, I’ll be up there to watch over her tomorrow. I know you need to get back.”

“And who’s going to watch the devil in your living room? Nadia? That ought to go over like a lead balloon.”

A nurse gives me a little wave, letting me know they’re leaving the room now—thank fuck. My mouth forms a tight grimace in response to them, though I’m still listening to the cantankerous asshole on the opposite end of the line.

“I don’t have all the damn answers. What I do know is that you have a job and this is my family, the rest is up to me.”

“I’ll leave when the girl is out of the hospital and you’re on your way home.”

Closing the distance, having been hovering in the corner like some sort of phantom the whole time, I finally get close enough to Sadie to really check on her.

The phone presses to my ear as Havok rambles on—this is the most talkative he’s been with me.

Most of the time he’s speaking only to Nadia or hoping to drag answers out of Lucien.

All I manage are a series of curt nods for Havok.

My attention is yanked to the side when a small monitor starts to beep.

Clenching my jaw, I press every one of the buttons until it stops and goes back to the low whirring sound.

Didn’t realize she was still hooked up to her IV pole, that’s how much of my attention Havok has fucked with through the duration of this phone call.

Pulling the damn device away from my ear, the screen lights up, showing me the length of time we’ve been talking. Far too long.

Over his tirade, I grunt, “Wrap it up, Havok.”

“Yeah,” he huffs, then hangs up the phone.

Standing here, awkward as shit, I toss my phone down on the dinner table thing you see in shows. It’s on wheels and should be easy to move, but when I give it a push, it doesn’t go anywhere. Checking for locks on the wheels, I don’t see any. Pulling it, it’s still a loaded weight so I give up.

“Looks like it’s just you and I, kid. Would appreciate it if you stayed right there in that bed. No funny business from whoever is driving, understood?”