“Hell no,” he barked.
“I know you don’t want your buddies seeing you in an open-back gown,” I said with a snicker. “Look, I don’t want you to wind up in here again because you didn’t follow orders and suddenly got a brain bleed.”
“A what?” He scratched his head around the bandage.
“We’re staying with you.”
“We?” He shifted in his bed. “Hell no, Raven.”
“Then I’ll have to ask Viktor permission for you to come home with me. After the help you gave us on our last mission, I don’t think he’d object.”
I wasn’t entirely certain if Viktor would agree, especially since we had a tricky assignment that required more secrecy than usual.
“I’m not asking for help,” he said, sitting all the way up and flipping the sheet off. “I want my bed.”
“Daddy, I’m on a job. Christian and I can’t be separated. Now that I think about it, if we get called away while staying at your house, you’ll be alone. Trade places with me for a second. What if I was the one needing someone to look out for me? I don’t want to fight my way through taking care of you. I started reading articles on my phone about head injuries, and they said—”
“It causes cancer and sudden death. That’s why I don’t read the internet—every diagnosis is terminal. I’ll be fine, but I get it if you want to watch your old man. To tell you the truth, my head feels like a truck ran over it, so I don’t think I want to work anyhow. You decide what’s best. I trust you.”
I reached out and felt his forehead. “Should I call the nurse?”
He rocked with laughter. “Stop giving me your sass. Now help me up, Cookie.”
I rounded the bed and helped him slide his legs over the edge. “Don’t stand if you feel woozy. Take your time. I’ll go find Christian. Call the nurse and order breakfast.”
When I left, I stopped by the nurse’s station and told them my father was starving. Then I sent Christian a text. When he didn’t reply back, I called.
After five rings, he answered. “Fangsfor calling,” he said breathily, slowly. Something was off. “I’m a wee bit busy at the moment.”
“Christian?” I stopped by the elevators. “Where are you?”
“Indisposed.”
“Please tell me you’re in the building.”
“Aye. It’s a carnival of cocktails.”
Panic set in. “Are you… Are you drinking from someone?”
“Of course not. I wouldnever.”
“Are you sure?”
“Cross my heart and hope to be human.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t rightly know.”
I got in the elevator after two doctors walked out. “What floor are you on?”
Christian started singing in what I presumed was Gaelic.
“Christian,” I hissed, gritting my teeth. “Tell me where the hell you are.” I stepped off the elevator on floor three and stood in the elevator hall. “What floor?”
“I see you.”
“You’re in ICU?”
