Page 117 of Only the Devil

She nods while big fat tears roll down her cheeks. She collapses against my chest, face tucked into the crook of my neck, and we stay like that until a nurse comes in to say they’re moving me to a room.

Once we’re in a room, the doc comes and tells me he’s got more tests to run and they won’t know much until morning. Right after he exits, Brie and Noah show up with bags of Five Guys goodness that a nurse is quick to tell me I shouldn’t have.

I really hate hospitals, and I need to get out of here, but I sense Daisy’s on edge, so I keep the peace and watch as the three of them scarf down cheeseburgers while I pick at green Jello.

“Turns out Thompson is a contractor,” Brie says. “The FBI has his DNA on file, tied to three different contract killings.”

“How’d that pass us by?” I ask.

“We didn’t test his DNA. Guy has a number of aliases. CIA-level good. He just happened to use his real name working for Sterling, probably because Weaver and him go back.” Brie sounds impressed, which I guess makes sense as she’s former CIA. “One of his aliases—Brian McGaffrey—is on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”

Turns out that Brie and Noah met up with two FBI agents in Jersey, just outside of the private airport where Phillip planned to change planes. When they got the call about what went down at the hangar, they finished updating the FBI agents and flew straight back.

“Ms. Weaver’s been taken into custody. They’re questioning her in regard to what happened at the hangar. We expect they’ll have a search warrant to search her home and computers by morning. She’s requested a lawyer.”

“And Sterling’s half-brother? Bennett?”

“He’s not walking,” Noah answers. “He owned the private plane that Phillip was taking, and the FBI confirmed that he issued the directive to fuel the plane and prepare it to leave the country. It’ll take time, but now investigators know where to look, they’ll find the connections. I’d bet one of the first connections will be payment to Thompson.”

“Who was the other guy?” If he hadn’t moved, I wouldn’t have had to put a second round in him, but he moved, and I couldn’t take the chance. Not with Daisy.

“Police are ID’ing him. As you’d expect, no identification on him. They might know by now,” Noah says.

I fight a yawn, and a nurse stops by to tell us that I need to rest and only one visitor is allowed to stay. It’s pretty clear who my one visitor is, so Noah and Brie prepare to clear out.

“You can go with them,” I say, but Daisy dismisses that notion with a wave. Stubborn.

“We’ll check in in the morning,” Brie says.

“Hudson up to speed?”

“He flew in when we were flying back down. Went to meet with the feds. Ensure the right teams are involved in the fall out. We’ll regroup in the morning,” Noah says, guiding Brie out of the room. “You get your beauty sleep; you hear me Ryder? Your ugly mug needs it.” I raise my middle finger, and he chuckles. Yeah, he’s a good guy. He and Brie–both good teammates.

Daisy’s phone vibrates and she picks it up from the windowsill where it’s been plugged in to charge.

“It’s Rhodes. I’ll take this outside.”

“Nonsense. Sit yourself down.”

She rolls her eyes but does as I say.

I listen to her on the phone with her boss—the real one. It’s clear the two of them are more than just boss and employee. There’s a real friendship there, which explains why he hired KOAN to watch out for her when she went all vigilante.

“Well, give her my thanks,” Daisy says, holding the phone an inch from her mouth. She’s telling Rhodes to thank Sydney, his girlfriend, but she’s also another KOAN team member who has spent the last few weeks canvassing the country for others who lost their life savings to Sterling’s gambit.

She ends the call with Rhodes, and I shift on the bed so she can sit beside me. Sure, I’ve got a headache and my chest is sore, but I’m not wounded. It’s ridiculous they’re keeping me here in a backless hospital gown.

She easily hops up and fills the space I made, taking my hand in her lap. I like this. The easiness we have with each other, hell, I love the stubborn little thing. And if I want to keep her in my life, which I do, it’s time to man up.

“What’re your plans? Where are you going after this?”

She inhales. “Honestly, I haven't thought that far. I mean, at this point, I imagine my plants are dead. Although, maybe not. I make a point of buying plants that try real hard.”

This girl.

“Your apartment’s in Chicago, right?”

“Yes, sir.”