Page 26 of Danger Close
He turned to Blake.“Thanks for the coffee.”
Blake nudged the mug toward him.“Go fix your heart, Navarro.”
He took it, warm and full, like a promise he wasn’t going to miss this time.
Not tonight.
****
The Ridge was quietat night, and he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t his favorite part of the day.Not silent—never silent—but still enough that Ricky could hear his own heartbeat in the spaces between his boots hitting the floor.
He walked the corridor to the infirmary like he always did now—around the same time, same route, same knot tightening in his gut.
Over three weeks post-extraction and Ezra was healing.Physically, anyway.The stitches were gone.Color back in his face.Breath no longer sounded like gravel in his lungs.
But Ricky still worried.
Internal bleeding could be subtle.Nerve trauma even worse.And then there was the deeper stuff—the stuff they didn’t scan for.What happened to a man who went after ghosts, got chained to a wall, and was dragged back through hell?
What happened when he got left alone in a place like that?
Ricky didn’t have answers.He barely had the courage to show up.
But he came anyway.
Every night.
He hadn’t told anyone, not even Bateman.He couldn’t face Ezra during the day.Couldn’t stand those dark, searching eyes that asked questions Ricky wasn’t ready to answer.So, he came in the dark.Brought water.Checked vitals.Sat beside the bed and said nothing while Ezra slept.
As he neared the door, he softened his steps, a reflex now.The corridor light was dimmed to dusk-mode.Ezra’s room was darker still—curtains drawn, door just cracked.
He clicked the tiny tactical torch clipped to his backpack strap.One notch up.Just enough to see his hands.
The door opened without a sound.
Three steps in—
Click.
The bedside lamp flared on, soft and golden.
Ricky froze mid-step like he’d just been spotlighted by a sniper.
Ezra was awake.And staring right at him.
“Lights out was an hour ago,” Ricky said carefully, voice low, like it might soften the awkwardness.
Ezra tilted his head, eyes clear, alert.“Sedatives didn’t work.”
Ricky’s brow knit.“They should’ve knocked you out.Your body still needs time to heal, you—”
“Not just my body, Ricky.”
The words landed heavily.
Ezra shifted on the bed, slowly, wincing only a little as he straightened.“I asked Blake not to give me the meds.I found out that you were ghosting me during the day, but coming at night and I needed to speak with you.I begged him to help me, so he brewed me a pot of coffee strong enough to reanimate the dead.”
Ricky stepped further into the room, setting the bottle he’d brought on the side table without looking at him.“That was stupid.”
