Page 250 of Wild Card

Rand, Hugo, and Blade get to their feet, resembling anxious schoolboys in the presence of James. If the situation wasn’t so extreme, their nervous shuffle would be comical.

“We have enough to deal with as it is. You think you can control yourself long enough for us to see our guys and get our doctor up to speed?” James cocks an eyebrow.

Feeling like a scolded child, I nod dejectedly.

The four of them head down the hall, and I collapse back into a chair, raking my hands through my hair.

Exhaustion seeps into my bones. I don’t remember the last time I slept. We’ve been in this hospital for what? Twelve hours?

Thoughts of Willow take over.

Major relayed what happened the morning in the kitchen with enough flare and dramatics, he had us all entertained. All except Ford.

Rand, Hugo, and Blade’s hysterics dried up quickly. Being described as goofballs, pretty boys, and amateurs didn’t sit well.

Ford finally cracked a smile.

But they were holding something back.

When I questioned her studies, they were dismissive.

When I mentioned Wyatt, they hadn’t seen him.

When I asked about Bex, Lucas, Rowan, Harley, Jewlssthe kids, and the parents—they were short-lipped.

It fucking pissed me off, but I knew the drill.

Provide just enough information to keep my head in the game.

No distractions.

People’s lives were at stake, and diversions resulted in death.

Regardless, something was definitely going on.

It’s been too fucking long since I heard her voice.

As soon as James officially gives the word and seals this operation, someone better return my Goddamn phone.

Half an hour passes before Robbie and Finn stroll back in. I’m barely on my feet when Robbie yanks me into his hard body, pounding on my back.

“Heard what you said. Only a few times in my life have I felt that kind of fear. Fuck if I didn’t think you’d actually keep his heart pumping. You saved him.”

There’s an edge of raw emotion in his voice I know well.

He lets me go, only for Finn to repeat the same actions. “Fuck of a good job.”

“He’s ventilated,” I remind them, not feeling their optimism.

“Not for long. Dr. Snyder is the best there is. He’s been in contact with local staff and has full medical authorization. He’s also familiar with the shit they were being pumped full of. The detox will fucking suck, but they’ll survive. They’re starting the process of waking Max up now. We’ll know more in a few hours.” Robbie scans the room. “Nice work, all of you.”

Rand, Blade, and Hugo stand straighter, and I swear they’re preening under his praise.

“What about Ricardo?”

Robbie’s mouth morphs into a bone-chilling, calculated grin, his blue eyes gleaming. “John Ricardo Lewis was found dead a few hours ago. Identified only by his dental records. Electrical fire caught at his home, taking it to the ground.”

A collective chuckle sounds around the room.

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