Her hands flailed at her sides. “He was bleeding really bad from a cut on his arm.”
“Did you make sure they admitted him under a fake name?” he asked, not acknowledging her previous statement.
Charlie stumbled back. “What?”
“A fake name. Did they use an alias so we can keep this quiet?”
Charlie’s face contorted, enraged. “Do you even care if he’s going to live?”
Monty rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t be a child. We both know he did this to himself,” he said, dismissing her and turning back to the woman behind the desk. “Excuse me, young lady. I need to talk to you.” The nurse behind the desk flicked her eyes upward when he banged on her desk. “I’m on the phone,” she told him, pointing to the receiver like he was an idiot.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Dr. Levkoff, I’ll call you back,” she murmured before setting the phone down and smiling at the senator. “Yes, sir. I know exactly who you are. You’re the man who got away with stealing a hundred million dollars from the company that owns this hospital. You’re the reason half of us didn’t get raises and why we’re so grossly understaffed. I know exactly who you are.”
The man’s expression would have made Linc laugh on some other day.
“How dare you? I want to speak to your supervisor.”
She glanced down at her badge, pulling it forward until it was practically resting on his nose. “I am the supervisor, sir.”
He sneered. “I need to speak with a physician or administrator, somebody who looks old enough to drink, preferably a man.”
The nurse rolled her eyes but left to comply. Moments later, a severe-looking woman with a bun and reading glasses approached the senator. “My name is Angelica Phipps. I’m the administrator. How can I help you?”
“You admitted my son under his real name. We need to get that changed immediately. I also want updates as to his condition at regular intervals. You need to close off this wing of the hospital and you need to alert security to ensure no press is permitted on the hospital campus.”
The woman looked at him over the rims of her glasses. “Senator, I’m not sure exactly where you think you are, but we don’t work like that around here. I’ll be happy to get you a status update on your son’s condition, and I’ll talk to our IT people about putting your son under an alias to protect his privacy, but with all due respect, I think that ship has sailed. Perhaps your time would be better spent worrying about him making it through surgery.”
She didn’t wait for his response, turning to murmur something to the nurse behind the desk before disappearing behind another set of double doors.
“We need to get ahead of this,” he told the girl in purple. “Get Gerald on the phone now. We need to put out a press release. We’ll call it an accident, say he cut himself on a jagged piece of metal.”
She jotted down notes, nodding like a bobblehead. “Should we wait until we know his condition?”
He shook his head. “No, the media is probably already speculating. Honestly, publicity-wise it would be better for all of us if he didn’t make it.”
Both the nurse behind the desk and the intern sucked in a startled breath at his callous remark.
Linc didn’t remember leaving his seat, he didn’t remember how Monty ended up on the ground, but he relished the feel of his fist connecting with his soft doughy face, with his grunts of pain and the satisfying sound of his nose breaking beneath his hand. People pulled at him, trying to free the senator, but they were gnats buzzing around him, more an annoyance than a hindrance. Montgomery Edgeworth deserved all this and more, and Linc would happily add this man’s blood to Wyatt’s.
Charlie was screaming at him, her fists hitting his shoulders. “Linc, stop. He’s not worth it. Oh, my God. You’re going to kill him. Stop. This isn’t helping Wyatt.”
Wyatt. Wyatt was in surgery. Wyatt might die. Fuck. He stared down at Monty’s bloody face, whatever satisfaction he’d felt fading under the reality of the situation. He let the two men pull him away. Jesus, he couldn’t lose Wyatt. He just fucking couldn’t. He didn’t just care about the kid, he loved him. He was in love with him. He should have fucking told him yesterday. Now, he might never have the chance. Fuck.
The girl in purple rushed to help the senator to his feet, but he shoved her away. “I’m fine!” he shouted, standing and straightening his jacket.
The senator wasn’t fine. His nose gushed blood onto his overpriced tuxedo. The nurse behind the desk offered him a snowy white towel, her face equal parts amused and concerned. The administrator pushed back through the doors just in time for Monty to shout, “I want him arrested.”
“Come on, Mr. Edgeworth. Can’t we just focus on Wyatt?” Charlie asked. “Remember? Your son? The one fighting for his life?”
“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” he grumbled, holding the towel to his nose.
“I have an update on your son if you’re interested?” Ms. Phipps asked, looking at the senator as if he were something stuck to the bottom of her sensible shoe.
“Well, go on then,” he said, his voice muffled from the fabric.
“Your son is out of surgery. They are taking him to recovery now. He’s in stable condition, but it’s going to be a long road. The surgeon will be out to speak to you shortly.”
