Page 12 of Ewan

“Can you wait here, sir?” she says, almost breaking her neck while peering up at me. “The doctor is in, and I’ll need to check with him first. I won’t be long.”

“Sure.”

I step away and wait next to a large window.

Once she vanishes inside, and I freeze in the corner, everything seems calmer, and I almost feel the relief in the air.

Soft voices converse inside.

The woman has kept her promise, so she exits the room followed by a doctor with a long name that is hard to pronounce.

I get his first name, though. Richard.

He tells me about himself, and I introduce myself, too, as we shake hands. The woman pulls away before he gives me the rundown on what happened.

“His helmet, gloves, and knee pads help attenuate the impact with the pavement. He was lucky in that regard. We’ll keep him another day for observation, and then he’ll most likely be released.”

Feeling relieved to hear that, I muster a smile for the doctor.

“Don’t be too harsh on him,” he says before we shake hands again. “I know how these things go,” he adds with a clipped grin before walking away.

The corridor gets quiet again, and I take a long breath and push the door open, ready to chew his butt off.

The room is serene and dimly lit, with soft music playing in the background. The bed is empty, the covers crumpled, and a bright light glows in the bathroom, catching my attention. Their voices ring behind the door.

A second passes, and the door opens before the woman chuckles and walks in with a tall man who has his arm curled around her shoulders and leans on her.

I bite back a snark remark.

He’s a head taller than her, and he is muscular for a nineteen-year-old and has big bruises on his arm.

He can’t use his leg without limping.

The woman lifts her eyes, her laugh and grin completely dying when she sees me.

She’s not older then him. Where does he find them? And she is pretty with a mane of curly chestnut hair and big eyes rimmed with thick lashes.

Dread slides over her face. I imagine she’s learned about his father.

Ezra struggles to put his foot down, wincing and cursing under his breath.

“Move over,” I say and replace the woman, who quickly pulls away from him.

He doesn’t comment when I slide my arm around his back and help him get to the bed.

He slides onto the covers and reads the room quickly, moving his eyes from me to his friend.

I shift my eyes to her as well.

“Can you leave us alone for a moment? I need to talk to him.”

I reach inside my pocket.

“Here,” I say, handing her some cash. “Get a cup of coffee or something. I’ll be done with him shortly.”

She takes the cash and looks at Ezra as if asking for his permission to leave him in the room with me, his own father. What has the world come to?

Ezra leans back, making sure he doesn’t make sudden moves and relaxes against the pillows with a stoic expression on his face.

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