“Not so tough without your backup now,” the foot soldier spat, snorting and panting in his ear. “Are you, Walker?”
Oh, fuck. They knew who he was.
He was as good as dead.
At least Trees had gotten away. There was a chance—albeit a slim one—that his bosses could mount a rescue. The more likely scenario was that they’d recover his body. Someday…maybe. At least they’d know for sure that someone in their ranks was a backstabbing bastard who deserved to be purged.
“Fuck you.” What the hell else could he say?
The pungent weight crushing his ribs laughed. “You will, no doubt, change your tune when you see what we have in store for you… But for now, it is best if you sleep.”
The fat foot soldier on his back twisted to straddle him, then grabbed him by the hair before slamming his head against the pavement a few times. His skull exploded in pain. Blackness swam at the edges of his vision.
His last thought was of Brea. He wished like hell he had a few more stolen seconds alone with her. At least then he could tell her that he’d fallen hard for her.
Chapter Eight
Monday, September 8
Lafayette, Louisiana
Wringing her hands, Brea paced the too-familiar halls of University Hospital again. The first time she’d come here, it had been a sweltering summer afternoon. The birds had been singing and the flowers in full bloom. Pierce had been with her, patiently holding her hand and bolstering her while doctors tried to repair her father’s heart.
Now, the weather had begun to cool. Football season was in full swing. The sky was pitch-black, except for a hazy moon hanging in the sky. The clock on the wall read two thirty-eight a.m., and the city outside the windows was almost eerily still. No one stood beside her, devoting himself to her moral support.
But her father’s failing heart was the awful correlation.
She wished Pierce were here now. Since she’d started pacing the emergency room, she had talked herself out of calling him more than once. During her father’s first episode this summer, his steadying force had been her bedrock. Without him now, she felt like she was in free fall. But it would be selfish to reach out to him after weeks of silence. After all, she was the one who had told him she needed space. He’d more than respected her wishes. Why should he come after she’d ignored him for so long?
“Brea!”
She whirled around to find Cutter jogging toward her. She dashed into his arms, grateful she was no longer alone.
But he wasn’t Pierce.
At the thought, guilt filled her. Her best friend had come running after a mere phone call, despite the ridiculous hour, and she was grateful. She pushed thoughts of Pierce aside.
“Thank you for being here,” she said against his chest. “I-I know it’s late. I know you have to work—”
“Shh.” He brushed her hair off her face and cradled her cheeks in his palms, forcing her gaze to his. “None of that matters. Tell me what happened. What have the doctors said?”
“I’m still waiting for news. I don’t really know much. I was so tired that I went to bed after dinner. An unfamiliar crashing noise woke me up a little after midnight. I ran down the hall and found Daddy on the floor, struggling to breathe. I think he panicked and tried to call 911 but fell out of bed reaching for the phone. I couldn’t lift him. He was in agony. I…” She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to hold in useless tears, but the vision of her father pale and writhing and making inhuman sounds of pain haunted her. “I called an ambulance. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m worried he’s had another heart attack. He’s barely recovered from the last surgery…”
“I know.” Cutter held her tighter. “But don’t lose hope. He’s young. He’s already dropped some weight and started exercising. You’re putting good food in his system, and the repairs he’s had on his heart will help the blood flow. I know you’re praying.”
“Of course.” But she heard the squeak of fear in her voice, felt its burn singeing her veins. She wasn’t ready to lose her father.
“Then you’re doing all you can. Come sit down, Bre-bee. You look exhausted.”
She’d just been tired lately. Not surprising. She had a history of being anemic, and she’d slacked off on taking her iron. “Don’t worry about me. I just…have no idea what I’ll do if Daddy isn’t all right.”
“You’ll cross the bridge if you’re pushed off of it, okay? In the meantime, have you called Tom? He should know that he’ll probably need to take over for your father again.”
“I was waiting until I knew something definitive. And until it wasn’t the middle of the night. There’s really nothing he can do now.”