“And now my son’s in the hospital. Because of her.” I shake my fists before I punch something. “I missed out on years of his life and Evelyn did her best to make sure I’d miss his future.”
“Patton—” Dexter starts.
“No. I don’t give a fuck whether you think it’s a bad idea or not,” I tell them, shoving my way outside. I need to breathe. It’s so cold my breath clouds in front of my face. “If she’d just stolen money or jewelry from us, whatever. I’d let the police handle it. But not this. This is too personal.”
Archer nods, the only other person who gets it when he’s a father himself.
“Okay, what’s your plan? You must have something in mind after we turned this place upside down to make sure we didn’t miss anything. Go.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice.
I’mat the hospital by visiting hours the next morning, fueled by coffee and distilled rage.
It’s not as overwhelming as it was last night, which gives me time to think over everything.
Archer would be fucking proud.
As I approach Arlo’s bed, I flag down a nurse and ask her what the situation is. She looks tired as hell. Really, everyone in this hospital looks like they’ve been pulling sixteen-hour shifts—the staff shortages in medicine are real—but she gives me a warm, faded smile.
“He’s doing better,” she says. “The doctor wants to keep him over the next few days for observation, but after that, he should be free to head home.”
I don’t bother hiding my relief, the way my lungs heave with the weight of the world coming out.
He’ll be okay.
My son will come out of this, alive and well without any serious damage.
That also clears the way for me to track Evelyn Hibbing to the ends of the Earth and drag her into handcuffs.
As I head into the room, just like I did yesterday before everything came to a head, I find Arlo and Salem asleep. She’s curled up on one of those uncomfortable chairs, one leg tucked under her and the other wrapped around the chair leg.
In her sleep, she doesn’t look angry or bitter or afraid.
She looks more worn than the nurses and almost as pale as poor little Arlo. Her mouth is parted and it makes her look almost obscenely vulnerable.
Even though everything we said to each other echoes in the space around us like a stray bullet, I want to hold her. I want to banish the hurt on her face, lingering in her long eyelashes and the dark arches under her eyes.
You don’t have to run anymore, Salem.
Goddammit, trust me.
But I don’t say anything out loud.
I’m quiet so I don’t wake her, pulling up another chair by Arlo’s side. By the time I turn my attention to him, I notice he’s awake, his eyes half-open as he looks at me. The tube in his nose must itch like mad. He tries to scratch.
“Easy, buddy,” I whisper, leaning forward to take his hand. It’s small and chubby, and I’m grateful it still feels healthy enough, too. “How are you doing?”
“Patman… what happened?” He groans, glancing at his mother and back to me. “Where am I? I feel funny.”
“You’ll get better soon. I spoke to the doctor and he’s really impressed. You’re a strong kid and you’ll be out of here soon.” I lean forward, gently squeezing his fingers. “You had a little mishap with some food, but that’s over now. Your mom broughtyou in so you could get some help. I came to tell you about your superpower.”
“Superpower?” His eyes light up.
“Yeah. You’re braver than ten men combined. Basically a little lion. You just woke up and you’re not afraid of anything.” I smile hopefully.
His smile turns into a grin. “Brave like you? Like General Patton?”
I wince a little inside, but he’s too damn cute and groggy to correct.