Page 92 of The Bad Brother

“The nurse came in and gave him some pain meds about an hour ago,” he says, still chatting nervously. “It knocked him out.”

“Good.” I give him another smile, this one a little more genuine. “Sleep is the best thing for him right now.”

“That’s what Reese said.” Swallowing hard, he bobs his head before looking away. “I’ve seen you—you live above the Mill.”

“Yes.” My smile fades a bit so I cover it by looking down to replace the cart. “It’s a temporary arrangement—Jensen was kind enough to give me a place to stay when I needed it.”

“Jen’s a good guy.” Billy bobs his head. “Most people around here don’t know it but he is. Did you know he was outside when that bus crash happened last month—saw it happen. When the ambulances got there, my friend Marty—he’s a paramedic—said him and Cade were pulling people from the wreckage. Let the Ladies’ Auxiliary set up their comfort station in his parking lot. He even paid Dave Gaston—he owns the motor lodge off Main—almost ten grand to let those people from the bus crash stay there while they waited on the bus company to reroute their buses to come get ‘em?”

“No.” I shake my head, my tone quiet. I think about the man who stocked my fridge when he realized I was eating the canned goods he left behind. The man who dotes on River like a little sister and refused to let Austin blame himself for the night he was hurt. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah—” Billy looks away on another head bob. “Noone does, really. Mainly because I think he wants it that way. Only reason I know is because my buddy’s girlfriend works the front desk on the weekends and she was there when he came in and paid the bill.” Dragging his ballcap off his head, he runs his fingers through a head of shaggy, sandy-blond hair. “You heading home soon?”

“Uhhh,” Because it’s an odd question, and one I’m not entirely comfortable with, I shake my head. “Well, I?—”

“The reason I ask is that I was hoping when you do head back, you can tell Jen something for me when you see him.”

Talking to Jensen is the last thing I want to do but I nod my head anyway because this poor kid has had a rough day and because, as ashamed as I am to admit it, I’m curious as to what sort of message he wants me to deliver for him. “Sure. I can do that.”

The relief that rolls off of Billy is almost palpable. “Can you tell him that me and Reese don’t blame him for what happened. I mean—she’s a complete hardass sometimes but I know she feels the same way I do. We both know Jen never meant for this to happen and that if there was a way, especially after what happened to Tank, he'd switch places with our dad in a heartbeat.” Billy gives me a sheepish grin. “Besides, we all know that my dad’d been madder than a wet hen if Jen let anyone else work on Tank’s truck.”

“I’ll let him know if I see him,” I say, clearing my throat on a nod. “You let your sister know that I said to knock it off with the coffee and get some sleep. She’s gonna need it if she’s going to be taking care of your dad while he recovers—you both will.”

“I’ll tell her,” Billy says with a grin while he resettles hisballcap on his head. “But don’t expect her to listen—her head is almost as hard as her ass.”

AFTER LEAVING BILLY REDFORD TOwatch over his sleeping father, I made a quick stop into the communal office shared by the hospital’s residents to send a few emails and close out my charts for the day. As soon as I’m done, I head to the locker room to retrieve my things and change back into the leggings and T-shirt I flew in here wearing, nearly sixteen hours ago.

While I’m pulling on my shoes, my phone buzzes in my bag, signaling a text. Digging it out on a sigh, I brace myself while scrolling through the notifications—dozens of missed calls and texts, made one on top of the other. All of them from another unknown number. Ethan—it has to be.

Unknown: We need to talk.

Unknown: there are things you need to know about him, Sloane.

Unknown: He’s not who he says he is.

Unknown: Do you know he’s been to prison?

Unknown: Do you know what he did?

No, I don’t.

While I know that Jensen went to prison for hurting someone, I also know that whatever he did, he was a minor when it happened. I also know that I got swept away. Toowrapped up in Jensen, too fast, to ask or even care. Looking back, I don’t understand how I could be so reckless.

Scrolling through the nearly eighty identical text messages from Ethan, I find a single text from Jensen, wedged in the middle of them.

The Grilled Cheese Guy: I know you’re angry with me. You should be. What I did was unforgivable but please don’t shut me out before giving me a chance to explain. That’s all I want, Peach. A chance to explain before you make up your mind.

Shoving my phone back into my bag, I shoulder it without answering either one of them and head for the skybridge that’ll take me to the parking garage attached to the trauma center. While there are multiple levels for patients and visitors, the level connected to the bridge is for hospital staff only, so when I get to the exit, I have to swipe my badge through the reader to open the door.

Walking through the garage, in the direction of my car, I dig through my purse, looking for my keys. I’d been in such a hurry, I start to worry. Cade drove me here. Maybe he didn’t give them back.

“Shit.” Muttering it under my breath, I stop walking to continue my search while somewhere ahead of me, I hear a car door open and close, the sound of it echoing through the partially deserted lot. My fingers snag on my key fob at the bottom of my bag, just as I hear my name.

“Sloane.”

When I hear him, my head jerks up so fast, Ifeel a sharp twinge shoot down the side of my neck, all the way into my armpit.

This level of the parking lot is private. Not only do you need an employee badge to access the skybridge, you also have to have a digital parking pass to open the gate. By all accounts, he shouldn’t be here.

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