Page 244 of American Hellhound
“No, there’s not,” he said fiercely, thinking of his own daughter shooting a man’s face off on a stretch of Louisiana highway. Of finding Maggie covered in Duane’s blood at sixteen, her gaze resolute and steady.
“I’m just glad they’re both okay,” she said.
“Mags.” He ached to swing out of bed and go to her, pull her in close. Shelter her. Be her man. Hehatedbeing laid up like this.
When she lifted her head, he said, “Fuck your mom if she thinks that about you. That’s on her, not you. Your kidsloveyou. You’re the kinda mom she couldn’t evenimaginebeing.”
She smiled at him, lips twitching like she wanted to say something. Argue with him, probably. She said, “Thank you, baby.” And then, surprising him: “They love you too, you know. Those kids. Aidan…” She caught her lip between her teeth, blinked hard. “He was so worried. God, he looked like he’d been in a horror movie, all covered in your blood.” Her voice hitched. “he wouldn’t go take a shower until you were out of surgery. He fell asleep at the foot of your bed, so sleepy he was drunk. Mercy had to help him out to the car.”
Ghost looked down at his hands, eyes burning. “He’s a good boy.”
There was a rustle of fabric, and then Maggie was sitting on the edge of the bed, baby in one arm, the other going around his shoulders. She kissed his temple, lingered there, breathing against his skin. “I love you,” she said, with incredible feeling. “I love youso much. I love our family.” Just a whisper, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
The baby squirmed, fussing quietly.
Ghost leaned into her, into them, breathing them both in. “Me too.”
~*~
“I guess we have you to thank for the fact that we’re not all in cuffs right now.”
Fielding shrugged. He was sitting in Maggie’s usual chair – and how much did it suck that he’d been here long enough for Maggie to have a usual chair? – watching Ghost eat lime Jell-O. He was still in uniform, fresh from his press conference in which he’d denied the Dogs having anything to do with the week’s chaos. “I’m a lieutenant now, I have sway. If I say that Knoxville citizens were assaulted by out-of-state bandits trying to stir up drama, it counts for something.”
Ghost set the empty plastic cup and spoon on his tray, stomach cramping in protest. He wanted a cheeseburger; he’d be lucky if he could handle the Jell-O. “Mighty convenient that we’re friends, then.”
Fielding shrugged again, but it looked, under his stress and fatigue, like he was fighting back a smile.
Ghost spread his hands out on his tray. His knuckles were turning a deep purple, his bruises darkening. Growing serious, he said, “I love this city, Vince. You know that.”
He heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
“Thanks for helping me look after it.”
Fielding rolled his eyes heavenward, like he was praying for patience. “If I’m going to hell, I might as well do something good along the way.”
“That’s the spirit.”
~*~
“I brought you real food,” Aidan said, hefting a greasy takeout bag onto the nightstand with a grin. It was a skin-deep grin, though, his eyes shadowed, his shoulders slumped as he dropped down into the chair beside the bed.
“Thanks,” Ghost said, with a longing glance toward the bag: he smelled meat and cheese and fried things. “But I’m on a mashed potatoes and Jell-O plan right now, man.”
“That sucks.” Aidan made a face. A halfhearted one, sliding down in the chair with his legs spread, arms folded across his middle.
Ghost reached over and flicked his denim-covered knee. “You been sleeping, kid? You look rough.”
“Not as rough as you.”
“Seriously.”
He blew out a breath, looking up at the ceiling. “Not really.”
“Lainie keeping you up?”
He shook his head.
Ghost sighed. “Aidan–”
