Caleb pacesthe room in front of us, just like he’s been doing for the past hour. With each minute that passes, the tension in the room grows thicker.
“Why aren’t they coming to tell us what’s going on?” Caleb eventually roars and then takes off toward the door. “I’m going to find him.”
When we got to the hospital, we were given a private room for privacy while Beckett is in surgery. His vitals weren’t stable by the time we got him here, so he was rushed right back. We haven’t seen any of the doctors since.
I leap up from my chair, and I step in front of Caleb before he can storm out of here and cause a scene that we don’t need right now.
“The best doctors money can buy are working on him,” I tell him as evenly as I can. “As soon as they know something, they’ll come tell us.”
I hope.
They have to come tell us something. Soon. Because while I’m holding Caleb back right now, I’m struggling not to go out there myself to look for my baby brother.
Caleb is bigger than me. For a second, I brace myself for him to shove me out of the way; instead, he stares at me with a look of fear on his face that I’ve never seen from the man. Beckett is his best friend. And he’s terrified of losing him.
“Beckett is tough. He’s going to get through this,” I say quietly. “He’s going to be okay.”
Maybe if I keep saying it, it will become reality.
Caleb closes his eyes briefly, then nods and walks away from me. A moment later, he throws his fist through a wall, the noise startling everyone, but no one says anything.
Even though all I can focus on is my brother, Ace keeps popping into my mind. I hope like hell she’s sound asleep and isn’t suffering from her migraine anymore.
I slide my hand into my pocket where I usually have my phone, but it’s not there.
Fuck.
I must have dropped it at the cemetery, or in the car.
My stomach drops. What if she’s tried to call me? I run my hands through my hair. She would have called Luciano if she couldn’t reach me. Remembering that calms me slightly, but just as I’m about to ask Luciano for his phone, the door opens, and two surgeons walk in.
The one in front, a woman with dark hair slicked back from her sharp face, looks at me as everyone else rises from their chairs.
I clear my throat. “How is he?”
She glances at Caleb, then down at his bloody knuckles, before she looks up at me again. “He’s alive and stable. He lost a lot of blood, and the bullet fragmented. We had to do some delicate work to remove the pieces, but we’re confident we’ve got it all.”
It almost feels like the room takes a breath at once. My knees almost give out as relief hits me.
Caleb drops into a chair, head in his hands.
“He’ll be in a lot of pain for a while,” the doctor continues, “and there’s risk of infection while he heals. Muscle damage will require months of physical therapy, but the bullet missed anything vital.”
I nod, and the rest of their words become a blur. Beckett is okay. He’s going to be fine.
Luciano speaks to the doctors for a moment before they step out of the room, Caleb on their heels, demanding to see Beckett.
A second later, Cash’s phone rings. When he answers it, he turns to me and then puts it on speaker.
“It’s Roman,” Cash says.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” Roman barks urgently.
My shoulders go tight as I step closer to the phone. “What’s wrong? Is Ace okay?”
Luciano is next to me in the blink of an eye.
“She’s in Seattle. She left her house around four this morning and got on a plane,” he explains.
