Page 1 of What’s Left of You (What Left #2)

“Take me to my wife now or I will take you out.”

The doctor winces, standing between me and the doorway that leads to Jo’s room.

I’m sick of sitting around waiting for someone to confirm that I’m approved to leave my room and go see my wife a few beds over.

I already told the nurse to grab me the damn AMA form so I could go and check on Jo.

We were in the same spot when the penitentiary was gassed, so really, what difference does it make if I sit with Jo and confirm, for myself, that she’s alive and well?

“Sir-”

“Save it,” I growl, narrowing my eyes. I’ve already had this exact same argument with two doctors and I can see a guard standing in the distance.

It looks like he’s taking an interest in us.

The last thing I need is someone else trying to intervene.

This is already taking longer than I like.

I’m not trying to cause issues, but I need to see Jo and so I can check for myself that she’s okay.

I already have a list of people I plan to kill for this. Does that put me on par with Alastair’s serial killer ass?

“Sorry Doc,” someone says, and I turn to the sound of a familiar voice.

Xeno approaches, my brother’s dark hair pulled back and tied into a knot today that reminds me of a certain FBI agent named Gabriel.

I haven’t had the pleasure of speaking to any of the agents aside from Sterling today, and even talking to him briefly was a little too much while I waited and tried to speak to Jo.

“My brother just wants to ensure his wife is okay.”

The man looks between us, and I can see the gears spinning as he debates what to do.

Xeno might have a reputation in Citrus Grove, but we’ve moved to the neighboring town of Walters and I don’t know if anyone will immediately recognize him out here.

They have a larger hospital, and I’m not entirely sure who determined the level of severity with the gas in the penitentiary, but they didn’t make us travel all the way out to Tallahassee.

That would make this whole experience that much longer.

The Doc in front of us clears his throat, his voice still cracking a bit when he replies to Xeno. “As soon as Mrs. Surwright is checked out, she’ll be ready to speak with you both.”

“Is that why Agent Gideon is talking to her now?” I ask dryly.

I watched Sterling step into the room a few moments ago and pull the curtain shut, blocking my view from down the hall.

Sterling is the only agent I want personally questioning Jo if someone has to do it, but I’d rather sit in with her.

The last few hours are twisted up in my head, and I’m sure her mind is even more jumbled than mine is.

Porscha. Back from the dead. I recognized her behind the facial reconstruction, and her voice is like hearing a ghost. There’s no doubt in my mind that it has to be her, I just don’t understand how or why. Pestering Sterling a little bit when he stopped by my room confirmed that it was truly her.

How Porscha can even be alive is a mystery. Jo claimed what was left of the body and laid Porscha to rest at the edge of town fifteen years ago. I can’t help but wonder who is actually in that grave?

I drag my fingers across the scruff growing on my cheeks, the urge to smash something rising up inside. Papa never taught us how to handle our emotions, and Mama wasn’t any better. My only instinct is to commit violence and let the rage out until there’s a satisfying result.

Porscha is alive, and I’d love to bury her again myself.

“The agents are just gathering information,” the doctor continues, and I eye him critically. I think this might be a newbie, or someone green, because he’s basically shaking in his doctor's coat looking between the two of us. I didn’t even realize he was still rambling.

“We’ll wait over here,” Xeno says, gripping my shoulder.

There’s a surprising amount of strength in his hand and I hadn’t considered how much my brother’s grown into a man until now.

I’ve acknowledged that he’s grown, but other than a few brief visits we haven’t spent much time together.

“We want to ensure Jo is properly checked out.”

I glare at him out of the corner of my eye, and the doctor backs away awkwardly. Xeno’s grip tightens as he steers us towards two chairs while I feel like I would choose violence over and over.

We can’t just sit here and do nothing.

“Breathe, brother,” he says in a low voice, taking the chair right beside me. It keeps Jo’s room in my line of vision, and the second that curtain moves so will I. “Let the agent chat with her.”

“Since when are you on the side of the Feds?”

He hesitates, pursing his lips. “This bit would do better not being overheard by the FBI. Remember my men who were keeping an eye on you earlier?”

My eyes flash. I considered them for less than a second between arguing with the nurses, but I haven’t particularly thought about what became of them since the penitentiary.

Xeno’s persistence to have two of the members of the crime family follow us around was a nice idea, but there’s no sneaking them into the prison.

Whenever we visited they had to remain outside, which made their presence null and void half the time, especially earlier when the place was attacked.

According to the FBI, a drug was released in the ventilation system inside the building. Xeno’s men never entered the prison to my knowledge or even crossed the gates, so they shouldn’t be in any danger.

I nod once, sitting back tensely in the chair as I prop my arms on the rests. He raises a brow and critically looks me over, but at least he doesn’t keep hesitating to share what’s on his mind. “Dante reported that the guard in the check-in booth eventually left. I’ve heard he’s now a casualty.”

“Kyle?” I ask with a frown. It takes a second for the pieces to fall back together.

I’d forgotten their names until now, but vaguely I remember Xeno telling me the two men were Dante and Jonathan.

It doesn’t stick in my head though when I process the rest of what he’s said. “Great. The Captain’s son is dead.”

Xeno nods. “I don’t like Wallsburg and his son was a piggish idiot, although not bad enough to deserve death.”

I grind my teeth at that. “He helped Porscha.”

“Porscha?” Xeno’s frown matches mine. “There’s rumors about her, nothing more. Jonathan said they broke through the gate when they heard sirens, and took off to park in the prison parking lot.”

That sounds… strange. “Why didn’t they leave?”

“Because I told them to keep eyes on the two of you,” Xeno replies with a scoff. “I won’t watch someone try and kill the two of you again. They said they saw someone through the glass doors but didn’t go inside because they could see there were people who had passed out.”

I roll my eyes. Those glassed-in front doors were actually useful for something. “And?”

He blows out a breath. “They recognized a girl and a man. The guy came out of the elevator and they recognized him as Kyle Wallsburg. They had an unconscious Alastair slung over the guard’s shoulder.”

My brows knit together. This isn’t the same story that Sterling told me, and I lean in a little closer.

According to Sterling, they learned that Porscha Surwright and Dr. Char Rowths-Spurig were the same person, but no one realized anything was amiss at the penitentiary until it was too late.

Somehow, she got into the prison, partnered up with Kyle and now he’s dead.

Sterling said the security cameras were left on, so they didn’t try and destroy them.

He was scant on other details, alternating between his phone and giving me short, perfunctory answers before he rushed off to answer a call.

I’m sure there’s a lot of moving parts, and the fact that he’s here instead of at the scene makes me wonder how trustworthy his team really is. He’s the lead, right?

But if Alastair was unconscious, then it should be assumed he went unwillingly with Porscha and Kyle. Scrubbing a hand across my face, I try to keep everything in order in my head. I want to see Jo badly, but I need to speak to Sterling again too.

“Alastair’s not working with Porscha from what they could tell,” Xeno continues, and I glance back at him.

He looks as tense as I feel, but I’m pretty sure he’s just readying himself in case he needs to stop me from barging into Jo’s room.

“Dante and Jonathan kept watch, and they tried to enter from a different point in the building. They didn’t know what was going on, but going inside seemed foolish if everyone else was unconscious. ”

I sneer. “If either of them hurt Jo-”

“Who?” Xeno cuts in. “Porscha? Alastair? Kyle ?” He rolls his eyes.

“It’s a mess Vinny, even outside the two of you.

The whole prison is being relocated. If Alastair hadn’t been carried away by Wallsburg and Porscha, he would be moved to another facility.

As it is, no one knows anything about his whereabouts. ”

“But he’s not dead?” I ask. The question feels hollow; we both know the answer.

Xeno scoffs. “If she wanted him dead she would have killed him in the prison. Why go to the lengths she did to get him out just to turn on him?”

I hesitate. Since I woke up I’ve been wondering the same thing too. At first I thought it was a dream that I saw Porscha, sporting different hair and a new nose. It was her voice, though, unmistakable, reminding me of the times I’d grab Jo to take her anywhere else.

And those eyes. Those cold, lifeless eyes.

My mama always had issues with Porscha, and few of them had to do with me dating Jo until mama realized I intended on marrying her and this wasn’t just a fluke.

When she realized how serious I was, mama started whispering to me some sort of nonsense that Porscha had multiple personalities.

Jo mentioned some strange things about her mother, but a diagnosis like that never came up.