Page 106 of The Kings of Kearny

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to speak past it. “You’re the one who asked to come with me.”

“I know I did.” She paused and looked around. The nurse’s station was to our backs. Doctors and orderlies moved with swift efficiency up and down the hall. A man in a gown held on to his IV stand for dear life as he shuffled toward us. Gran leaned in and dropped her voice. “That was because I didn’t realize how hospitaly it would be.”

She must be really uncomfortable if she was making up words.

I slipped my arm through hers and gave her a tug. “Then let’s quit dawdling out here and go see the doc.”

Together, we moved toward the now-familiar door halfway down the hall. Gran stayed glued to my side, looking slightly queasy. Dr. Perez had been moved from the ICU a few days after she woke up, and I’d started coming to see her as soon as her attending physician granted visiting rights.

A tall, beefy Latino man in a guard uniform stood outside her room today, and the sight made me frown.

He held a hand out to stop us when we approached. “Names?”

“Krista and Izzy Evans,” I told him.

Gran tugged on my arm. “You didn’t say she was being guarded.”

“Because she wasn’t,” I said.

This new development worried me. Had something happened?

The guard spoke into the walkie-talkie strapped to his shoulder. Someone radioed back that we were clear to go in, and he nodded and opened the door for us.

“Thank you,” Gran and I chorused.

We slipped inside and found Dr. Perez sitting up in bed. Beside me, Gran sucked in a sharp breath. I’d warned her what she was walking into, but this was my fourth visit, and even I flinched when my eyes landed on the doctor. Deep purple, green, and yellow marred the skin of her face from her left jawline all the way to her scalp. A line of bruises ringed her neck, from where Redding tried to strangle her. Medical tape was stretched across her swollen nose, and she had two black eyes because of how badly it was broken. Half her head was wrapped up like a mummy to cover the staples holding her scalp together. Her right leg was broken and so was her left arm. She sat stiffly because several of her ribs were fractured.

“Oh, Maria,” Gran said, stepping forward.

Dr. Perez lifted her head at the sound of her name. She’d been reading, holding the book aloft in her unbroken hand. I snuck a look at the cover. It was one of those old-school bodice rippers that were usually as problematic as they were addictive. She quickly set the book aside.

I noticed that she placed it with the cover facing down and grinned. “Whatcha reading, Doc?”

From her sheepish expression, she knew she’d been caught. “Oh, just something one of the nurses lent me.” The words came out a little slurred. Between the drugs they had her on and the pain in her jaw, she was still having trouble speaking. She couldn’t smile yet, but her eyes brightened when she shifted her focus to Gran. “Izzy, it’s so nice to see you.”

Gran went over and gave her the gentlest of hugs. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ve been better,” Dr. Perez said.

I made sure the door was shut behind me before joining Gran by the bed. “What’s with the guard?”

Dr. Perez’s eyes darkened. “Redding made bail.”

A hazy red veil of rage tinted the edges of my vision. Bail had been set for half a million dollars. It was one of the reasons Nick thought he’d be able to hold on to Redding. Guess not.

“When?” I bit out.

“A few hours ago,” she said. “The police told the admin here, and they thought there was enough of a danger that I warranted twenty-four-hour protection.”

She met my eyes for a few seconds, and a world of unspoken words flowed between us. We’d talked a lot during my visits, well, I had at least. We’d only briefly touched on what Redding had done to her. She saw a nice hospital therapist once a day to work through her emotional trauma, and nothing I could say would be helpful. All my words about him were tinged with my desire to see him dead. My advice would be, “I bet you’d feel better if you killed him.” Instead, I’d been helping her in what way I could, devoting a lot of our time to my own recovery after the plane crash, what had worked for me, what hadn’t, what might work for her too.

“Are you okay?” I asked her. “Want me to see if they’ll let me sleep in here with you tonight?”

I’d done it before. The first day I visited her was rough, and she hadn’t wanted to be alone, so the nurses, grudgingly, let me stay. I had to work tonight, but I’d call in sick in a heartbeat if she wanted me to.

She shook her head. “No, thank you. I should be okay knowing there are armed guards outside.”

“You’ll call me if you’re not?”

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