Greer nods and sits beside Jericho, who knocks their knees together gently.
“Kelly’s on his way, and he’ll be taking the case,” Jericho explains. “I don’t want Sebastian anywhere near this, but Kelly will ensure he won’t be getting out for a long time.”
“And we’ll be waiting for him when he does,” I say darkly. The second he has his freedom, whether that’s twenty or thirty years from now, I’ll be stripping everything from him. He won’t ever have a day that the noose won’t be around his neck.
No one argues with me. Pointless if they did; they don’t control me.
Hunter’s phone goes off with a message notification, and he pulls it from his pocket. “It’s Moira. She’s got everything set up for you at her place and wants to know what you need from yours.”
“Why didn’t she message us?” Kendrick asks.
“She did. You aren’t answering.”
“I’ll send her a list,” I say before Kendrick can respond to that. I’m not leaving his side, and he shouldn’t be wandering around too much. “What about the guy that shot Kendrick? What did you do to him?”
“His name was Anthony Ralph. An old teammate of Ferguson. Still enlisted and not particularly well-liked by his peers or his superiors. One step away from his own dishonourable discharge. No family. Maverick and Abigail collected him, and no one knows he was there. As far as the world is concerned, he’s AWOL, and he’ll never be found. Doubt he’ll be missed.”
Good. He deserves to fucking rot. I hope whatever the afterlife has in store for him, it’s excruciatingly painful.
Jericho stands and drops a hand on Greer’s shoulder. “I’ll go get the car. Your wheelchair should be here soon.”
Kendrick rolls his eyes. “That’s such a stupid fucking policy.”
“Like you could walk far by yourself right now.” He’s as weak as a kitten. They had to give him a lot of blood, and he’s gonna be sore for a while now. “And no sudden movements, you know what the doctor said.”
“I think he’s secretly a sadist. So are the nurses. This hospital’s just a front for a BDSM club. That’s why they make you sign waivers.”
“Okay, Mr. Paranoid.”
Six passes Jericho as he leaves, a bunch of papers and a bag that looks like it’s filled with medical shit in his hands. “They’ve given the all clear for you to get the fuck out of their hospital,” he declares. He lifts the bag. “And I have supplies. You’ll have to change everything at least once a day—twice if needed—and I will be the one doing it.”
“Piss off, I can do it,” I say with a scowl. Kendrick ismineto look after. I’m capable of changing some bandages.
Six nods. “Fair enough. I’ll come by tomorrow and show you how it’s done. If he needs a sponge bath, I’m very good at those and offer them free of charge.”
“You put soapy hands anywhere near my man, and you’ll lose them,” I promise. If anyone is giving Kendrick sponge baths, it’ll be me. “Wait, so he can’t shower?”
“Not straightaway, no.”
I’m not opposed to some sponge baths. Maybe he’ll need a few a day. Gotta keep him clean, after all. “We need to get you dressed. Everyone, get the fuck out.”
“And miss the show?” Six asks. “That’s not very nice, Spencer.”
“I will break you.”
“Greer, control your man,” Kendrick says with a heavy sigh, “before there’s more bloodshed.”
Greer snorts, crossing the room to wait at the door, not making a move to stop Six from wading further into dangerous territory.
Six presses a hand to his heart. “I can see when I’m not wanted.” His gaze turns haunted when his eyes flick to Greer. I doubt he’ll be straying far from his own partner. We’re all gonna be twitchy for a while. “Yell if you need help.”
“We’ll be fine.”
I can still hear their muffled voices on the other side of the door and knowing they’re there, guarding us, helps me relax. A little. This nightmare is over, at least.
Chapter thirty
Epilogue—Kendrick
