“No. Only scared. But you are. Let me see.” His hospital gown clings to his side, a bright red stain spreading all the way to his hip.
He cups his free hand over his crotch. “Hell, no—”
Joey cries out. “Ford. Oh God, Ford. Open your eyes. Look at me!” Nomar tenses until she sobs once. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Just…keep breathing.”
Men shout in Uzbek. A radio squelches from nearby. Nomar takes aim until a man in a security uniform calls, “Starfire!” Then he drops the gun and rests his hand on mine.
“We need a doctor here. Now!” I call. My fingers are still numb. My wrists ache and my shoulder feels as if someone is trying to pull it from its socket. But I have my son in my arms. Nomar saved us. Again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Three Days Later
Nomar
The driver pulls awayfrom the curb, leaving me staring up at St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital wondering what the fuck I’m doing.
I left Uzbekistan at oh-dark-thirty this morning, and after almost fifteen hours, landed at Logan a little after 5:00 p.m. Ford arranged for a car service to pick me up from the airport and take me to a hotel, but I had other plans.
By the time I figure out what floor Mateen is on, the twinge in my side has grown to a full-blown ache. The doctor didn’t want me flying this soon, but Ford’s updates have been few and far between. Fucking nine-hour time difference.
He’s taking care of Joey. Calm down.
If only I could. Faruk is too smart, too rich, and too well connected to settle for failure. He’ll come for his son again. Even here. Six thousand miles away.
Two mountains of muscle stop me as soon as I emerge from the elevator. “This hallway is off limits.”
“Starfire.”
To the men’s credit, knowing the code word isn’t enough. They demand to see my passport, paw through my duffel bag, and spend five minutes on the phone verifying my identity with someone from Second Sight before they let me pass.
“Third door on the left,” the taller one says, but before I reach Mateen’s room, Lisette slips into the hall.
All the tension I’ve carried with me since I left Uzbekistan melts away in a single breath. A red t-shirt clings to her curves, and flowing black pants end just above her ankles. With her hair in a ponytail and no fresh bruises, she looks ten years younger.
She doesn’t notice me, moving to the nurse’s station and smiling at the woman behind the desk. “Mateen is hungry. Is he allowed to have more food tonight?”
The nurse checks her tablet. “Let me guess? The corndog was a hit?”
Lisette’s laughter soothes my soul. “He has never had one before. Pork was…forbidden. I fear he will never want anything else ever again.”
“The cafe is open for another hour. I’ll call down for you.”
“Oh, thank you. He was nauseous most of the day. I want him to eat while he is hungry.”
Lisette turns, and shock sends a flush darkening her cheeks. “Nomar!” I don’t get a chance to say a word before she rushes over to me. But she stops short of touching me. “I worried for you. We had to leave so quickly after…” Her hand goes to her throat, fingers fluttering over fading yellow bruises.
“Got the all clear this morning and took the first flight out.”
The doctor didn’t give me anythingcloseto an all clear, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Lisette’s eyes narrow on my duffel bag. “Did you come straight from the airport?”
“Not…exactly.”
Gritting my teeth so she won’t see the pain it causes me, I bend down and retrieve a small box from my bag. “A buddy of mine works for Nintendo. Mateen’s going to be here for a couple of weeks, right? I thought he might enjoy this.”
Her eyes shimmer. “You brought my son a gift.”
