Page 66 of Danger Close
Ricky wanted to smile but it came out a wince.
Sophia giggled, soft and breathy.“Did Uncle Ricky really say that?”
“I swear on all your crayons,” Ezra murmured.
Ricky could feel it—Ezra’s presence right there at his bedside, holding their niece, comforting her, tethering himself to Ricky with stories and warmth and love.
“I love him, you know?”Ezra said quietly.“Your Uncle Ricky.I don’t think I ever said it properly.But I love him.So much it hurts.”
God.
Ricky’s fingers twitched, his throat thick with unspoken words.He had to wake up.Had to come back.
For Ezra.
For Sophia.
For Marsh—
Time spun...
The air shifted again.New voices.
“Vitals haven’t improved,” Blake said, somewhere to the side.“He’s stable, but he’s not fighting.Honestly, Ezra...I think he’s giving up.”
Ezra’s voice was sharp.“Speak English, doc.”
A sigh.Then Blake, softer this time.“He’s tired.He’s in pain.And the willpower that got him this far?It’s running out.It happens, Ez.Sometimes the body can survive, but the mind—”
“No,” Ezra snapped.“He’s too fucking stubborn for that.”
“You’d think,” Blake said gently.“But sometimes, even the stubborn ones ...break.”
The silence that followed was like ice.
And that’s when Ricky knew—he had to get up.Had to get to Marsh.
Even if it meant crawling.
Even if it meant bleeding.
Time spun...
And held
The room was dim when he opened his eyes fully, light spilling through the door’s glass panel.Sophia was gone now, but Ezra was curled up asleep in a reclining chair against the back wall.He wanted nothing more than to wake his man up and go to him, to tell him that he loved him, that he was there, and that nothing would take him away from him or Sophia again.But there was something more urgent that drove him.
He slid out from under the covers, breath catching at the sudden, sharp pain in his shoulder.His bare feet hit the floor.Cool.Solid.Real.He stood for a moment, catching his breath and his bearing, forcing the world to stop spinning by sheer force of will alone.
One step.Then another.
He didn’t stop.Wouldn’t stop.Not until he found Marsh.
The hallway stretched like a ghost’s corridor—silent, sterile, buzzing faintly with fluorescent light.Every step pulled a thread of pain through Ricky’s shoulder, but he didn’t stop.Couldn’t.
Marsh’s room was at the end.Of course it fucking was.No guards, no visitors.Just a single red tag clipped to the door.Critical.
Ricky pushed it open.
