“Going to dip into the thirties tonight,” he said.
I nodded to the space heater as I pulled on a clean T-shirt and swapped my muddy boots for a dry pair.
A moment passed and I could feel his gaze on me, assessing, as everyone did when they saw me. I turned my back fully to him. He got the message and began unloading dinner.
“Took a trip to the hospital today,” he said.
“Finally getting that rash taken care of, huh?”
“Yeah, Ax gave me some of your old ointment.”
“Funny.”
“No, this visit was personal.”
I looped my laces and turned, eyes narrowed. “How so?”
“Ax and Gunner and I decided it was time to confirm who was spreading our business.”
“Mybusiness. My business ismybusiness. Stay out of it.”
“Your business isourbusiness. Just as ours is yours. It’s always been that way, brother. This is no different. I won’t have some loose-lipped son of a bitch spreading your confidential medical information. Considering who we are, that information should have been locked tighter than a nun’s?—”
“Stop.”
“Oh, so you don’t want to know who it is?” He chided.
I waited.
“Our assumption was right.” He said.
My hand curled to a fist.
“It’s him. Pretty-boy Josh Davis.”
“How do you know this?”
“I have a source.”
“Who?”
“One of the nurses.”
“Who?”
“My business.”
“Who?”
“Your old nurse,” Gage said. “She told me Josh paid one of his mom’s friends to sneak a look at your file.”
My jaw locked.
Josh Davis.
The entitled, silver-spoon son of a state senator who’d bought his way into Kings Point. As if that wasn’t enough reason to despise him, there was also the good ol’ Southern family feud. Years back, our dad had done business with his, and somewhere along the line, things soured—over money, of course. That falling out turned into bad blood, the kind that didn’t fade.
Add military service to the mix, and it only got uglier.
