“He’s a relatively new addition to the staff, but has high credentials and not so much as a traffic ticket.” Again with Walter’s stiff pose.
Lucky scrutinized his boss. It wasn’t like Walter not to snap to Lucky’s attention, but he’d never endanger a part of his team. Something about his clenching and unclenching fists said the matter wasn’t over, and Nurse Andy pinged Walter’s felon instincts. No telling what Lucky’d find if he crawled inside the man’s mind. No thanks. He’d enough demons living in his own head.
And an unnerving nurse to keep an eye on.
***
Damn, damn, ouch, ouch, oh holy fuck! Lucky doubled over, breathing through the worst of the pain. Thank God they’d unhooked his IV, or else he’d have to haul the damned apparatus down the hall.
Walter might be doing background work, but nothing beat good old-fashioned surveillance.
He peeked around the corner. There. Nurse Andy, speaking on a cellphone. His voice changed, reminding Lucky of O’Donoghue, who’d pick up and lose an accent at will.
Andy hissed into the phone, “How much longer? And what happens then? The hospital has already kept him longer than usual. Sooner or later, someone’s bound to get suspicious.”
Oh, really?I’m already suspicious, motherfucker.Lucky flattened against the wall and slunk back down the hall. Well, he’d learned two things: he’d been here too long, and Andy really was out to get him.
A Starbucks cup sat on the side table. With any luck, Walter assumed Lucky sat downstairs having some test or other run. He’d better come back soon and hear all about what Lucky heard.
Ahhh… Coffee. Dark and sweet. Perfect.Thanks, boss!
***
Lucky swam to the surface of murky dreams and managed to open his blurry eyes. The chair beside the bed squeaked. Ah, a visitor. He lacked to energy to see who. What happened? Coffee and a bitter taste coated his tongue. “Wha…?”
“You should have stayed dead, asshole.”
Okay, someone who wanted him dead narrowed down the possibilities to about two thousand. The Southern drawl reduced the number to a few hundred. The words chilled Lucky’s blood.
“I hate you, you know that, right?”
Which upped the number into the thousands again.
“Why?” Lucky managed to ask. “Why in particular?” took too much energy. Why wouldn’t his eyes stay open?
“You’re an asshole.” The chair squeaked and footsteps tapped away from the bed, only to return, along with the scent of overly-sweet cologne.
Common knowledge. Most people hated him for being a smartass or shoving their sorry drug-dealing asses into jail.
The voice and cologne weren’t Nurse Andy’s. Bed, pillow, lovely, lovely sleep called. The nurse might make his skin crawl, but right now he couldn’t care. He’d gladly kiss the man for showing up. Why the hell hadn’t he demanded his gun from Walter?
Okay. The dipstick visitor said his piece. Now get out and let a man rest.
The pacing stopped. A sharp bite in his hand forced Lucky’s eyes open. Ow! He grabbed his offended hand and came away with damp fingers. Blood. “What are you doing?”
A man-shape shoved something into his pocket. “You’re no good alive, but you had some use to me dead. Only… you being alive again might cause a few complications. You should’ve drank the whole cup of coffee and saved me the effort.”
“What are you rambling on about?” Even with Lucky sedated, a can of whoop-ass began to open. He struggled to sit up. Stars danced before his eyes. What heavy weight pressed down on his chest?
The blur held up an empty syringe and grinned, face eerie in the room’s greenish night light. “So long, motherfucker.”
Shit! Air! Need air!
Black filled Lucky’s vision.
Chapter Seventeen
Oh! Coffee. Worth waking up for. Ouch! Bright lights! Lucky slitted his eyelids and tried again. Huh. Light blue walls, not white. And way too much fucking sunlight streaming in through a big-assed window. No humming machines. Out of his room now. But… This sure as hell wasn’t a normal hospital room. A couple dozen or so hospitals, visited for various reasons, tended to turn a man into somewhat of an expert.
