Page 38 of Private Exhibit (Gentleman Hackers #4)

ANDY GRABBED his phone and sank onto the couch, his entire body trembling with the release of tension.

Gods . That was just what he'd needed. The dramatic scene in the E.R. seemed like a lifetime ago instead of a mere few hours. As did the past several days of frenzied, fruitless research, for that matter.

Getting Devon back was a godsend.

Andy took a moment to relax and compose himself, then sat up when Oliver wandered by, absorbed in his own phone. “Hey,” Andy called. “You want anything in particular for dinner? I thought about ordering in.”

“Oh.” Oliver blinked. “You know what? I'll take whatever.”

Andy nodded. “Would you go ask Dev what he wants?”

“Right-o.” Oliver bent over his phone and strode off.

Andy leaned back, closed his eyes, and let out a heavy sigh of contentment.

Rapid footsteps thundered from the direction of his bedroom. “ Doc! ” Oliver screamed.

Andy was on his feet and running to meet him, heart racing with anticipation before his brain really had a chance to catch up.

Something was very wrong.

Andy met Oliver in the hallway, nearly colliding with the boy. All it took was a glance at Oliver's face to know what the boy was about to say. Andy shoved past him and made a beeline for his bedroom.

He lurched to a stop in the doorway. His perfect, beautiful boy lay on the floor, limbs splayed and twisted at awkward angles. Devon's gaze was empty, and his body wasn't moving. Not even to breathe.

“Devon!” Andy threw himself on the floor and rolled Devon onto his back. He found himself staring down at the boy, completely lost as to what to do. Twenty years of experience fled his mind in the wake of his panic.

“He's not breathing,” Oliver gasped, rapidly shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“Devon?” Andy panted. He touched Devon's face, then somehow managed to remember to check for a pulse. Andy pressed his fingers to Devon's throat. Then snatched up his wrist. He even wedged a hand into Devon's groin to check the femoral.

But there was no pulse. No nothing.

“No,” Andy gasped, slamming his hands down on Devon's chest. “Come on,” he begged, frantically doing chest compressions, needing to get Devon's heart started again.

He knew the effort was probably useless.

If the nerves had failed and a signal couldn't get through, nothing he did would matter. Still, he had to try.

“Come on, Devon. Fight, sweetheart. Come back.” Don't leave me. Gods, please. Not now .

Oliver choked out a sob. “Do something,” he begged.

I'm trying! Andy thought, screaming the words in his mind while he panted, frantically trying to bring Devon back. He kept up the chest compressions while he rapidly scanned the room. There was no sign of a ghost yet. Maybe Devon hadn't left his body. Maybe there was still a chance.

“Doc,” Oliver sobbed. “Shit. I'm calling emergency services.”

Andy almost protested, knowing he couldn't rely on anyone else. Knowing they'd never get there in time.

He froze, sucking in a breath. Shit . Andy stared at Devon, trembling with indecision. He had to fix this, but he knew, deep down, that he couldn't. Not there. And not without help.

Andy shot to his feet and raced back to the living room, frantically searching for his phone. It was on the floor right where he must have dropped it when he ran out. Andy snatched it up with shaky hands, found Hayden's number, and started a call as he sprinted back to his bedroom.

The ringing stopped as the call connected. Before Andy could say anything, he heard Hayden frantically ask, “ What room? ”

Andy panted. “Master bedroom.”

The call cut out.

Andy pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen. “Damn it.” He started to dial again when his phone buzzed in his hands while the overhead lights flickered and flashed.

Hayden appeared in the doorway, spotted them, and ran over. “Pick him up,” he ordered.

“What?”

“Pick him up!” Hayden shouted.

Andy gathered Devon up in his arms.

Hayden threw himself on the floor, wrapped his arms around them both, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Andy felt his whole body lurch, everything seeming to tilt and swirl around him. His stomach twisted, and for a moment, he was sure he was going to be sick.

When he opened his eyes, he no longer saw his bedroom.

They were right in the midst of the E.R.

A few doctors and nurses jumped back, startled at their sudden appearance. Andy didn't have time to apologize or explain. He shot to his feet with Devon still in his arms and started barking orders.

Andy dropped Devon on a gurney and threw himself on top of the boy, keeping up chest compressions while nurses wheeled the gurney into a scanning bay. Frantic activity swirled around him as the E.R. staff yanked Devon's clothes aside and started feeding bypass tubes into his veins.

“Come on, Dev,” Andy muttered. “Come on, baby. Stay with me.”

Two nurses had to drag him off the gurney.

Andy fought them until he realized he was in the way.

He stumbled and caught himself on the railing, watching as they completed the setup and got the bypass machine turned on, circulating Devon's blood for him.

Meanwhile, another nurse got Devon intubated, helping Devon's body get the oxygen it needed.

“Bypass at seventeen-thirty-two,” a nurse called out, giving the current time.

Andy punched a button the wall, and a bar of blue light tracked down Devon's body. The whole room seemed to hold a collective breath as the light winked out and a hologram appeared. Andy stared at the rendering.

He couldn't move. Hells . He could hardly breathe.

“Good blood flow,” someone announced. “Normal oxygen saturation.”

“I see brain activity,” someone else called out.

Andy let out a shuddering breath. If there was still brain activity, maybe it wasn't too late. He still frantically searched the room, looking for any sign of a ghost, then stared at Devon again. “Deep scan on just the brain,” he ordered. “Expanded view.”

Someone waved away the hologram of Devon's body, and the bar of blue light scanned Devon's head again. A new hologram appeared. A nurse expanded it, stripping away the layers of skin, bone, and muscle, leaving just a representation of Devon's brain.

Andy suddenly couldn't make sense of what he was seeing.

“Shit,” someone whispered.

“What?” Andy demanded, stepping closer and staring intently at the scan.

“Were we too late?” Hayden asked.

Andy jumped, startled to find the boy right there at his elbow. He'd entirely forgotten Hayden was even there.

“How long until bypass?” someone asked him.

Andy shook his head, trying to think. “I don't know. Three minutes? Four?” Hells . It could have been thirty seconds or three hours for all he knew.

Hayden pulled out his phone and cursed. “Shit. I fried it. But I'm pretty sure you called me right at five-thirty.”

Andy nodded dumbly. That meant two minutes, plus however much time he'd wasted before remembering to call Hayden. “How bad is it?”

The whole room fell silent until someone quietly said, “He's in a coma.”

Andy swayed.

“Make him go sit down before he passes out,” someone ordered.

A hand grabbed Andy's arm, steering him away from the scanning bay. He found himself shoved into a chair, then felt the person sit down next to him, still clinging to his arm. “Were we too late?” Hayden quietly asked again.

Andy braced his elbows on his knees and ducked his head, running his hands back through his hair. “I don't know,” he gasped.

They sat there in silence for what felt like hours, though Andy knew—watching Oliver sprint into the waiting area with a bag in hand—that it couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

Oliver lurched to a stop at the sight of them and dropped to his knees. “Oh gods. Is–”

Hayden jumped up from the chair and threw himself on the floor in front of Oliver, grabbing him by the shoulders. “He's still here,” Hayden gasped in a rush. “He's still here.”

Oliver's face crumpled. Hayden seized the boy in his arms. Oliver's eyes went wide with shock, but then he hugged Hayden back and cried.

Andy watched them, unable to move. The boys looked devastated, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Oliver nodded at something Hayden said, and the two boys slowly stood. They started to move in Andy's direction, leaning on one another. Oliver dropped heavily into a seat, and Hayden was about to do the same when a door burst open and Thomas Pennington came storming into the room.

Gods almighty . Even the subtlety of his facial expressions couldn't mask his obvious fury.

Andy slowly blinked as he watched Thomas scan the room before heading straight for Hayden.

He saw the man's barely contained rage. A part of him knew that he ought to get up and make sure the boy was safe, but Andy couldn't bring himself to move.

And it turned out not to matter, anyway. Thomas stopped right in front of Hayden, his jaw ticking and his hands in fists at his sides as he studied his husband's face.

“Is he alright?” Thomas bit off.

Hayden burst into tears. “I don't know.”

Thomas carefully pulled the boy into his arms, holding him like a delicate piece of glass.

Andy slumped back in the chair, his entire body trembling.

Thomas held Hayden for a long moment, taking slow, deep breaths, visibly trying to keep himself under control. Finally, he pulled back and gently cupped Hayden's face between his hands. “You are getting a scan right now,” the man murmured, “and you are not going to argue with me.”

Hayden immediately nodded. “Yes, Daddy,” he choked out.

Thomas put an arm around Hayden's shoulders and steered him over to the nearest nurses' station.

“How bad is it?” Oliver suddenly whispered. “Really?”

Andy couldn't even look at him. He shook his head and clenched his hands into fists. Andy worked his jaw, trying to say something, trying to hold onto hope, but he couldn't make the words come out.

Oliver silently nodded, then reached over and grabbed the bag he'd brought with him. The boy set the bag in front of Andy. “Just in case,” he said, pointing at it.

Andy blinked dumbly at the sight of a pair of his shoes sitting right on top inside the bag.

He looked down, noticing his bare feet. Hells .

He'd been so panicked, he hadn't thought about anything else.

He could have been naked and not even realized it.

At least he had on flannel pants and a t-shirt instead of just his boxers.

Andy dug out the sneakers and a pair of socks, then froze.

Another, smaller pair of shoes rested at the bottom of the bag.

Oliver's breath hitched. “He'll need those when he comes home. Right?”

Andy dropped his shoes and hid his face in his hands.

A phone beeped.

Oliver jumped up with a gasp. “Be right back,” he blurted out.

Andy slowly looked up and watched the boy hurry away.

Dad?

Andy gasped and looked all around. He spotted Junior across the room, watching him with concern. Andy shot to his feet, crossed the space in a few, long strides, and seized his son in his arms.

He didn't care how it looked. He didn't care if, to everyone else, it seemed like he was holding nothing but air. Andy needed to hold his son. To remind himself that Junior was still there.

To remind himself that Devon would be, too.

It just wouldn't be the same.

Oh my gods, Dad , Junior gasped, hugging him back. Is he–

Not yet , Andy replied, then shook his head. But it's not good.

Junior hugged him tighter. I'm so sorry.

Andy swallowed down the urge to cry. He put one arm around Junior's shoulders and the other hand on the back of Junior's head. Andy cursed. He felt a semblance of skin and bones, but it wasn't the same. He felt hair, but the texture wasn't quite right.

Even if he still had Devon's ghost in the end, he wouldn't have his warmth. Wouldn't have the softness of his skin. He wouldn't have the scent of him or the brush of his hair or the true sound of his joyful laugh when Devon spotted some new plant that he liked.

And there was nothing Andy could do.

He cursed himself, shaking his head, wondering if he'd called Hayden too late. Wondering if the rush to the hospital was all for nothing.

Andy had been right all along. He was a failure.

And he'd always lose the people he loved.