Page 277 of Fearless

“You driving straight through?”

Ghost must have been able to hear him, because his voice said, “Yeah,” in the background.

“We’re coming as fast as we can,” Maggie said.

“Well don’t get arrested. Ava’s alright and I think he’s gonna be.”

Maggie sighed. “We’re coming as fast as we can,” she repeated.

It was Dr. Roth again, who explained things to her, as Mercy lay on the other side of the partially-open curtain, his skin sallow and almost as pale as his gown, his left leg in an immobilizing brace, his eyes closed, lean face slack.

In a soft, cajoling voice, Roth said, “The infection in the previous wound was fairly advanced. Dr. Evans debrided the edges…”

Ava stared, unblinking at the young intern as he explained that Mercy was on some heavy duty antibiotics and morphine for the pain.

“He’ll probably sleep between now and his next surgery, which would be for the best. It will allow his body to heal.”

She nodded. “When’s the leg surgery?”

“If he remains stable, Dr. Kimber plans on going in at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Good.”

Roth winced. “On X-ray, his knee was a bit of a mess. Dr. Kimber won’t know how extensive the damage is until she gets him on the table. At that point, you may have to make some decisions about how you want us to proceed.”

“You’ll be in there during the operation?”

“Yes.”

She glanced again at her sleeping husband, his arms stuck with IV needles, the glossy clear fluid dripping, dripping, dripping. “He’ll want to be able to ride. Whatever you have to do, he’ll want as much mobility as possible.”

When she glanced back at Roth, he nodded. “I understand.” He winced again. “Mrs. Lécuyer, I’m sorry, but considering the nature of your husband’s injuries–”

“You had to call the police,” she sighed. “I understand.” She reached to pass a hand unconsciously across the crown of her hair, and remembered that her left arm was strapped across her chest with a sling.

“I told them they couldn’t come into the ICU,” he said. “There’s two officers waiting to talk to you in the hall outside the family waiting room.”

“Okay.” She glanced again at Mercy. She just wanted to be with him, touch him, be there if his eyelids fluttered open and he called out to her. She couldn’t leave him alone and injured in this city he hated so much. She couldn’t.

Behind her, at the helm of her wheelchair, her nurse, Patricia, said, “The only place this poor thing’s going is to her bed. She needs to rest.”

“The cops won’t wait,” Ava said, resolute. “We can go talk to them.” She cast an appealing glance up at Roth. “Then I want to be here with him.”

His face creased with worry. “They’ve got a room set up for you.”

“To monitor my concussion. I’m fine,” she insisted. “No bleeding on the CT. Can’t someone check my pupils just as easily in here?”

He debated it internally, then finally consented with a nod. “Okay.”

Ava glanced up at her brother, silent beside her, looking a little beat-up himself, thanks to a severe sleep deficit. “Will you stay with him? While I’m gone.”

He frowned, looking still even more like their dad. “I’m not throwing you to the cops by yourself.”

“It’s alright. I’ve got Patricia with me. Right, Patricia?”

“Sure, honey. Those boys get too nosy, I’ll send ‘em packing.”

“Please, Aidan,” she said. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

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