“Sorry, sir, but that doesn't count.”
Though I hated using the words, I knew I had to for Dad’s sake. “Then I’ll need to speak to your supervisor.”
The truth was, there was no such thing as the word no around here—not for me. She scurried off to do my bidding, and I went into Sailor’s room while there was no one to stop me.
The machines they’d hooked her up to reminded me of how Dad looked not that long ago. Feeling a squeeze in my stomach, I ran my hand gently over her forehead. Her skin was cool, and the bruise had darkened along with an accompanying lump.
I cursed under my breath at what I’d dragged her into. It was my fault she was hurt, and she was just an innocent bystander.
“Benito?” she mumbled. Her eyes popped open. “Noah. How’s your father? Is he okay?”
Pursing my lips, I bit back the mean retort. Exactly how close were those two? “He’s fine, but they’re keeping him here.”
Pushing herself up, Sailor threw back the sheets. Her body swayed, and I reached out to steady her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snapped.
Holding her head in her hands, Sailor said, “I need to see him. Who's his doctor?”
“I don’t fucking know. He ordered me to check on you.”
“God, that hurts.” Slowly lowering back to the bed, Sailor leaned over and left her hands on her head.
“You must’ve gotten hit with something when the second floor caved in on us.”
“What was that, by the way?”
The million-dollar question. I hadn't had time to really think about it since I was concerned with my father’s well-being, but we were obviously targeted. Again.
“I heard a low-flying plane before the house shook. Maybe it crashed on top of us.”
No need to feel guilty for the lie. After all, I could be right.
And ice doesn't melt in Hell.
“I need to see your father. I need to make sure they’re taking his preexisting conditions under consideration.”
“Do you think everyone else who works here is incompetent?"
“Yeah, she does, and I thought I told you not to come in here.”
The nurse was back at the door, and I folded my arms across my chest as I addressed her sternly. “And I thought I told you to find one of your supervisors.”
“They’re a little busy right now.”
“Tell them Noah Costa wants to speak with them and they’ll suddenly find themselves incredibly unbusy.”
Her face reddened. “I know who you are. Sorry about the confusion.” She squinted at me and then Sailor. “How do you two know each other?”
“I’m his father’s doctor,” Sailor said in an even snippier tone of voice than I’d ever been treated to. “Tell me who his pulmonologist is.”
“Not my job,” the nurse replied, turning toward the door. “Good luck with her.”
When she was gone, I asked, “What was that about? Aren't you colleagues?”
“None of them like me,” she muttered.
Interesting piece of information. “Why not?”
