“We’re right behind you, Skip.”
Yeah. I know.
And for the first time since I kicked in that door, some of the tightness in my chest eases just a little.
Because Eli’s an official Shadow.
He’smine…a fact that I will make perfectly fucking clear the second his pretty brown eyes open.
And because he’s mine…that makes himours.
And the Shadows don’t let their people fall without reaching out to catch them.
***
When we reach the hospital, they ask for Eli’s name, slap a wristband on him, and then whisk him away with orders for me to sit in the waiting room and… fucking… wait.
That was two hours ago.
“You really should be home,” I tell Spike, dragging my hands through my hair. “Your wife and son need you with them.”
“My wife and son are fast asleep and perfectly safe,” he says, accepting the coffee Foster hands out. “Right now, you need me. Don’t fucking argue.”
I roll my eyes but take my own coffee anyway, gripping the cup so hard the lid creaks. My glare flicks back to the double doors like I can will them to open.
“Want me to go get some answers?” Maverick asks as he strolls in.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask. “I thought you left town.”
“Just got back when I heard the news,” he says. “I have contacts in this hospital. I can find out about your man.”
He hascontactshere?
Normally, I’d jump all over that…poke at him and try to unravel one of the many secrets he holds so tightly to. Right now? I don’t give a single damn about his mysterious bullshit.
Before I can even respond, someone else steps into the doorway.
“Family of Mr. Waddell?”
Bout fucking time.
“We’re his family,” Spike says immediately. “How’s he doing?”
“I’m sorry,” the doctor replies, “but I can only give information to actual family members.”
“I’m his fucking husband,” I say, the lie sliding out smooth as butter.
The doctor blinks. “I wasn’t aware Mr. Waddell was married.”
“They married last week,” Foster says without missing a beat. “And it’s Mr. Bryant now.”
Mr. Bryant.
Fuck… that sounds good. Too good.
“How is my husband?” I demand. “I’ve been sitting out here for hours with no updates.”
“My apologies,” the doctor says, and he actually looks sorry. “Your husband is okay. He’s starting to wake up.”
