Chapter 5
Nash
The news just kept getting worse as the day wore on, and by the following day, I was ready to physically drag Everett out of the hospital and to a hotel. He’d barely spoken to anyone, though he intently listened whenever Ronan or one of Reese’s doctors stopped by the conference room to give us an update.
Updates that were proving to be more and more worrisome.
Reese had, in fact, not recovered feeling from the waist down once the anesthesia had worn off, and his attitude toward having his father around hadn’t changed. It had been painful to watch Everett’s expression fall when Ronan had been forced to tell him that Reese still didn’t want to see him. I had no clue what could have possibly happened between the two men to cause such bitterness, but part of me – the part that was having a hard time separating logic from emotion – wanted to go into that room and shake Reese for the pain he was inflicting on his father.
My ability to emotionally separate myself from my charge had pretty much flown out the window the second Everett had looked at me with tear-filled eyes and whispered to me that he couldn’t lose his son. I’d touched the man way more than I should have in the subsequent hours and I’d practically had my entire body wrapped around his the day before when his son’s brutal rejection had set off that panic attack.
Everett hadn’t touched any of the food Ronan or one of his men had brought him. He also hadn’t left the conference room which, fortunately, had a small bathroom attached. I should have been standing guard outside the room the entire time, but I’d found myself sitting in the conference room with Everett in case he needed anything. I hadn’t really known what to say… well, that wasn’t quite true. There’d been plenty of things I’d wanted to say to him, but I’d been unable to cross that line. My emotions were already too mixed up in what was happening here, not to mention the inconvenience of my physical attraction to the man. When all this was over, I needed to have this job to go back to. I couldn’t fuck it up by becoming too intertwined with my charge’s needs.
Who the fuck was I kidding?
I was already way beyond that.
Even now, the impulse to open the door to the conference room to listen in on Everett and Ronan’s conversation was powerful. I still didn’t understand the connection between the two men, but Reese definitely seemed to be the link. Although Reese had banished his father from the room and had even gone so far as to tell the medical staff that his medical information wasn’t to be shared with Everett, he’d allowed Ronan to continue to be involved in his care. Ronan, for his part, had broken protocol and continued to update Everett with details that Dr. Fields and her staff had to gloss over. The best they could do was tell Everett that Reese was resting comfortably. It was Ronan who’d had to break the news about the paralysis.
I had no clue what they were talking about at the moment, but they’d been deep in conversation for a good twenty minutes. I had to wonder if Ronan wasn’t pressuring Everett to take better care of himself, because the doctor had to be seeing what the rest of us were.
Everett was coming apart at the seams.
If he wasn’t pacing the confines of the small conference room, he was standing in front of the window that overlooked the mountain range that butted up against the city of Missoula. He was still wearing the same clothes from the day before, even though Ronan had had one of his men pick up some clothes for him, since we hadn’t had time to return to Everett’s house so he could pack. I, myself, fortunately kept a go bag in the trunk of my car, so I hadn’t had to rely on Ronan’s generosity.
Despite being caught up in my thoughts, I heard the footsteps long before I saw the men they belonged to. Vincent rounded the corner, along with one of Ronan’s men. The man nodded at Vincent once they reached me and then he left.
“What’s going on? Is Everett in there?” Vincent asked as he nodded at the door at my back.
“He is,” I said.
“Why isn’t he in Reese’s room?” He looked around us and then stiffened. “Did something—”
“No,” I quickly interjected. “His son asked him to leave.”
“What?” Vincent asked in disbelief.
“When Reese woke up and saw him… it wasn’t pretty.” Fuck if that wasn’t the understatement of the decade.
Vincent’s expression darkened. “Thanks,” was all he said, then he pushed open the door and entered the room. I followed and wasn’t surprised when he slowed at the sight of Everett and took in his disheveled appearance, including the wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and red-rimmed, swollen eyes.