“Well, keep it to yourself.”
“Roger that.”
21
DeShaun
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m meeting Anders at the entryway to the Wimberley compound and, true to his word, he pulls out a black-bag, grinning like a loon. “Do you want the full takedown experience, or do you want to put this on yourself?”
I snatch the fabric from him, rolling my eyes. It would be easy enough, I suppose, to be mad at somebody like Anders Bash for always being such a joker, but at this moment, I’m grateful he can see his way to being funny.
Popping the bag on my head, I let him lead me to his Jeep. It’s incredibly disorienting, but he drives straight for a while, stopping at what sounds like a security checkpoint along the way. I listen as Anders exits the vehicle and comes to my side of the car. He opens the door and hands me my cane, helping me to stand before walking me down a gravel path.
It smells like nature and bright sunshine makes its way under the edges of the bag. Birds and what sounds like a water feature—maybe a small waterfall?—are off to the side.
“Oh shit.”
I stop, the gravel loud and scratchy under my feet. “Anders, when your surgeon says, ‘oh shit,’ and you haven’t gotten into the building yet, it’s not a great sign.”
He loops his arm with mine and whispers in my ear, “I don’t know what he’s doing here. He’s supposed to be in Houston.”
With the bag on my head, irritation begins to rise in my chest. “Are you saying that Odd is here right now?”
“That’s exactly what he’s saying,” Odd says, walking up next to me, his hand settling on my lower back. I’m surrounded by the Bash twins, and I chuckle to myself, rolling my eyes at how many people would kill to be in this position.
“Did you know that this was happening today?” Anders asks, his voice unusually sharp.
“Did I knowwhatwas happening today?” Odd replies, his voice equally sharp.
“Why are you here?” I ask, facing him blindly. Even though I’m unable to make out any of the details of his face, I have to force myself not to think about what I’d see this close up.
Odd lets out an annoyed breath. “Why areyouhere?”
“I asked you first.”
“All right then. Trying to hide major surgery the day after we finally,finallyget together isn’t cute.”
Of-fucking-course.
Anders asks the obvious question. “I don’t suppose you could find anywhere else to be today.”
“Not on your life,” Odd says, a growl in his tone.
Anders pipes up, “Brother, if he doesn’t want you to be here, you can’t be here. And, in fact, I’m telling you right now. No blue hallways for you. At. All.”
“Fuck you. You don’t have any right to keep me out of those hallways.”
What the fuck is a blue hallway?
“Actually, I do. And I will because my patient has asked me for privacy. I’d appreciate it if you would stay out of the Cave for now.”
The Cave? I’ve seen them in a cave-like environment a time or two when they would video in instead of driving into the team meetings. We call this operation Wimberley. Do they call it the Cave? I have more questions—a lot more questions—but I feel it’s wise to let these two work out their disagreement.
Odd starts speaking, his mouth now close to my ear, enough that I can feel his hot breath through the cloth. “DeShaun, I’m going to be here for you, whether or not you like it. Now, I would like to not be thrown out if at all possible. So I’m going to need your cooperation. Tell my brother that I am allowed to be here for you.”
Fuck, his voice. His accent is usually more neutral than Anders’ East Texas drawl, but not, apparently, when he’s angry. And my name—my full name—in that accent is creating a strain in my pants.
“I don’t want you to see this. It’s awful. You’re an engineer, not a doctor.”
