Page 33 of East (The Moral Compass 3)

“Jesus, that makes me feel really old.” We both laugh. Ten years. Has it really been that long since we started all this? I was roughly the same age as he is now. I look at him and realise this life I chose has taken ten years from me. Ten years of fighting, hiding, shooting, and ultimately trying to get killed every day. But it’s been ten years of rescuing kids and women and giving them their lives back. That’s not a bad ten years, really.

“Hey, do you think I could keep in contact with you? I know my sister would love to meet you again and say thanks.”

I question his motives for a second and then agree and give him my private number.

“I don’t give this to anyone out of my circle. Do not pass it on to anyone. But if you or your sister ever need anything, you call me. Okay?”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Are you still living in London? Your accent sounds a bit fucked up.”

“I don’t really live anywhere. As soon as I get home, someone gets into shit, and I have to go sort it out.” I half laugh. It’s the truth, but for some strange reason, I wish it weren’t. This weird feeling is starting to piss me off.

I’ve always been happy with my life. Happy to be just running around doing what I do but sitting outside the x-ray room waiting for East is playing tricks with my head.

As soon as she is sorted, we are out of here, we are getting divorced, and I’m going to find some trouble to get mixed up in. I need clean air to breathe. Air that is not infiltrated with her perfume and those damn eyes looking at me every two seconds.

Shit, Drake!

“Hey, Mateo, you want to follow in my footsteps?”

“Yeah, of course I do. Well, it depends. I can’t break the law or shit.”

“No, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. My brother is having death threats, and the videos have always gone missing, or the feed’s been cut, and I need some help now that East is out of action. The police haven’t found anything, but I need to catch this fucker. Then, I can get out of town and back to work.”

“Your brother is…?”

“Ha, my brother is Drake. The singer. He’s here in Vegas, but this has been going on for a few weeks now, and I’m bored with it all. He has a manager called Margarite who has disappeared. I really need to speak to her, too. So, anything you can find would be really helpful.”

“Yeah, I’ll have a look and see what I can find.”

East emerges from the room. I can tell she’s in pain, but she’s a tough nut, and she won’t crack, not while we are here, anyway.

Two hours later, the doctor has given his diagnosis. Yep, she needs surgery, and it has to be today before any of the tissue around the break gets damaged.

Her brothers are going to lose their shit. I can’tnottell them. If I don’t tell them and they find out, they will crucify me. If I tell them, I run the risk of them finding out what’s gone on. Why can’t the fucking McGarry lives be simple?

They give East some medication to ease the pain and to prepare her for theatre.

“I’m going to phone North and let him know what’s happened.” I kiss her gently on her forehead.

“Okay,” she whispers and then falls asleep.

“We are going to take her to theatre now, while she’s quiet and sedated. It will be better this way. She was pretty volatile in the x-ray room,” the nurse says.

Hmm. That’s my girl.

Stop this shit, Zed. She is not your girl.

I stand back and watch as they wheel her down the corridor and through a set of double doors with “Operating Room” above the door. My stomach flips as I pull my phone from my pocket, find North’s name, and click “call.”

After two rings, North answers.

“You better be looking after my sister.” He laughs. Great. How do I phrase this?

“I’m calling about East. Don’t freak out, but she had a fall and has broken her arm. They have just taken her to theatre.”

“What the fuck? Was she pissed?”

“No.”

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