Page 8 of Morally Black Betrothal
Fuck. Me.
“I’m a volunteer for the CARE program.” The girl stood and offered an outstretched hand.
I glared at it, but only because I couldn’t move. “What the fuck is the CARE program? Are you a nurse?”
Standing up, she was even smaller than I thought—a fairy dipped in gold, then dressed in shapeless hospital garb that still couldn’t hide the swell of a hip, the promise of a breast.
She took her hand back, seemingly unalarmed.Whywasn’t she more alarmed? When most people received the glare I’d inherited from the old man, they quaked in their shoes. This one looked serene enough to pick wildflowers.
“Just a volunteer,” she replied. “CARE provides support for elderly patients until their families arrive. I’ve been sitting with your father since he got out of surgery.”
I blinked. “And that was when?”
“About four hours ago.”
Fuck.
I’d rushed to the hospital as soon as I’d gotten the message after my last meeting. Had left the receptionist in tears after firing her for missing the call, but I didn’t feel the slightest bit sorry. Especially now, after hours had passed. What the fuck kind of call receiving is that?
He was found in the Public Garden, my assistant said. He’d collapsed while walking his Giant Schnauzer, Aengus, who was also now missing. The EMTs had picked him up right next to the goddamnMake Way for Ducklingsstatues and escorted him straight into open-heart surgery.
Surgery. Jesus.
I’d told him over and over again that he shouldn’t go out alone, even if it was just to the park across the street. But he insisted he didn’t need his security detail when he had Aengus with him. Insisted that nobody recognized him when he was alone. Claimed the security team only drew attention to him and that he could handle that hundred-pound menace by himself.
Stubborn man, now at the mercy of hospital staff like a common pauper, when he was a king of Boston.
Now…Christ, when did he get this thin?
“My family?” I asked as I approached the bed. Christ, when did he get this thin?
The girl stood beside me, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen anyone. The hospital has done its best to notify anyone they could.”
I scowled, and the girl didn’t even flinch.
They should have been here hours ago. Owen, Ronan, and Shea, otherwise known as my self-absorbed siblings, had nothing important enough going on to keep them from coming. Maybe Violeta, my stepmother, was a Castilian Barbie doll whospent her time wrapped in seaweed, mud, and cucumbers, but she generally knew when to at leastpretendto give a shit about her geriatric husband.
“He’s been stable, though. Peaceful.” The girl—Simone—glanced toward the door as she tugged on the end of her ponytail. An image flashed through my mind: that fall of gold wrapped around my wrist as I pummeled into?—
“Would you like me to get the doctor for you?” Simone interrupted.
I managed to shake my head. What was wrong with me today? “No. I spoke to a nurse on the way in, and he said the doctor was on his way here.”
She nodded. “All right. Would you like me to stay, or give you time alone with your father?”
I didn’t answer. Why didn’t I answer? What the fuck was happening?
This girl was nothing. A waif in baby blue, fruit-covered pajamas. At least a foot shorter than me and probably a hundred pounds lighter.
“I-I?—”
Was Istuttering?
I hadn’t done that since I was a child, and my father literally beat it out of me.
Christ.
“It’s all right. I know it’s overwhelming. I often sit with the families a bit too, while they get a bit more…acclimated…to what’s going on.” She looked back at my father. “It’s normal to feel some shock.”
