"They're already giving it the fake news treatment," Kaisall replied.
"Good, good," I murmured. "So, we agree. Ten minutes at Will's place and then straight ahead to Jamaica."
Kaisall shook his head. "While I usually advocate for post-mission downtime, that's not how this one is shaking out."
When he didn't go on, I swung my gaze between them. "You've gotta be kidding me. No. There is no way in Satan's rose garden that I'm staying at my brother's house indefinitely. No fucking way."
My brother was one of my best friends. The guy was awesome. But he didn't let anyone off the hook. He didn't let anyone sneak off with their shit and fix it up on their own, without him. That wasn't how fixers rolled. They fixed and they didn't let you out of their sight until they were satisfied the fix was going to stick.
And his wife, god help me. Anything my brother didn't handle, she would. She'd kick my ass and then hug the shit out of me and make me promise to be careful with my remaining organs.
Family was weird.
"Come on, man. You'll love it." Kaisall shared another glance with April before looking back to me with a barely restrained smile. "It's not Jamaica but a house filled with screaming babies is pretty good too."
"Just send me back to Russia," I grumbled.
2
Wes
"What's your pain level?"
I blinked at the doctor as he studied the wound on my flank. If this guy thought I was copping to anything more than mild discomfort while my brother leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, he was out of his damn mind. It didn't matter that the wallpaper was alive and my arms didn't seem connected to my body and I felt like I'd been fired out of an active volcano.
"Not bad," I said as breezily as I could manage.
"Save the bullshit, Wes," Will ordered.
I didn't know when that motherfucker learned how to read minds but I flipped him off nonetheless. Rather, I flipped him off as best I could with my disconnected limb. Which was not at all, if I had to guess. "Yeah? When was the last time you were shot?"
He shrugged. "Three, maybe four years ago."
"Oh, fuck off," I grumbled.
"This is productive," the doctor murmured, glancing over his shoulder at my brother. "Would you excuse us? I'd like to have a conversation with my patient."
"Bro, I'm not your patient," I said, swatting his hand away from my side. "I just need to get to the islands. Nothing the sun and sand can't cure. Salt water is the best medicine."
"I'm all for natural solutions but the sun and sand are not addressing the infection you've developed from the gunshot wound," he replied. "There's also the issue of the burns on your legs and several bruised bones."
"Fuck that," I roared. "Pour some gin on it. I'll be fine." I pointed at the wall behind my brother. "Would you turn the wallpaper off? It's making me dizzy."
"Can you sedate him, Nick? Just knock him out for a few days?" Will asked. "My parents are going to be here any minute and they're not prepared to see this. I cannot look after this fucking guy, my parents,andmy wife and babies right now."
"Don't forget about the dogs," I quipped. "There are dogs, right? Don't tell me I hallucinated all that barking. I don't know. Maybe Kaisall was the one barking. He's a fuckin' bloodhound."
"Honestly, Will, I want to help you but this is not my area of expertise. I'm better qualified to assess your kids' neurological development than handle major trauma injuries. Let me call Stremmel and—"
"No way in hell, Acevedo," my brother yelled. "I've seen enough of that guy for a year. Maybe two. You can handle one mouthy SEAL. This should be easy. You worked in a refugee camp in Africa, for fuck's sake."
"I did," the doctor agreed. "But I specialize in kids and their brains." He pointed at me. "This is neither a kid nor a brain."
"Thanks for calling in the B-squad for me. Thanks," I said to my brother. Goddamn him for looking so smug and…upright. He made it seem like standing was easy and I hated him for that. "Seriously. Why would anyone choose that wallpaper?"
Will shot a glimpse to his side and then back at me. "Wes. Buddy. There's nothing on the wall. It's light gray. Shannon said the color is called moondust or some shit like that."
I stared at the flowers and fairies and mushrooms dancing behind his back. That wall was not gray. It wasn't. And all I needed was some penicillin and the sea. "I don't wanna see them," I said, my words fragmented and whiny. "I don't wanna see Mom and Dad right now. Tell them I went to the Caribbean to be a pirate."
