The Davenport Christmas Chronicles - Piper Davenport Page 0,63

for Kennedy if I was charging at the doctors and demanding answers.

“I just want to know what the fuck’s happening, Rem.”

“Me too, buddy,” she whispered, and I pulled her in for a hug.

Her phone pealed in the silence of the hallway and she dug in her purse and pulled it out. “Hi, Trish. Well, the surgery went well, but she’s got a really high fever. The doctor’s in with her now. Okay. Yeah. Okay. Sure. I’m here with—hm? Oh, right. Yes. Him.” She nodded and I watched her closely as she filled Kennedy’s mother in on everything. “Yep. He sure is.” She glanced at me, grinned, then turned away. “Absolutely. Okay, we’ll see you when you get here. Sounds good. Okay. Bye.”

“She on her way?” I asked.

“Yes. They’re leaving London in two hours, so they won’t be here until late tomorrow, but they got a flight.”

I nodded.

“She knows who you are and is really happy you’re here with her.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Remington grinned. “Yeah. You seem surprised.”

“Not gonna lie, I am.”

“That tracks.” Remington chuckled. “Kennedy’s super close to her mom, so if she’s ever going to admit how she feels about anyone, it’ll be to Trish. Kennedy’s obviously filled Trish in and she said she hoped you’d stick around even after they come.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “Trish seems to like you even though you haven’t met.”

“We did meet. Once.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “At your friend’s funeral.”

“Oh, yeah.” She blinked back tears and I immediately felt like an asshole for bringing up the subject of Michelle’s death.

“Sorry,” I said.

“No, it’s okay. It’s just hard to be reminded she’s gone. Some days, I just pretend she’s on some great traveling adventure and I’ll see her again soon.”

“I get that.”

Before she could say anything else, a doctor walked out of Kennedy’s room and we stood as he approached.

“What’s goin’ on?” I demanded.

“We’re trying to figure out if it’s an infection or blood clot, or both,” he said, and my blood ran cold.

“A clot could kill her.”

“We’re going to do what we can so that doesn’t happen,” he assured me. “She’s stable now and we’re monitoring her temperature. If it doesn’t come down in the next two hours, we’ll run more tests.”

“Is she awake?” Remington asked.

“No, but she’s comfortable.”

I dragged my hands down my face and did my best not to grab the doctor by his lab coat and slam him against the wall.

“Her parents are on their way,” Remington said. “Please make sure she’s okay.”

“We’re doing everything in our power,” he assured her. “If you have any questions, please page me.”

Remington nodded, and he walked away.

“Are you okay?” she asked me.

“No. You?”

She shook her head.

“Jesus.” Knuckling my eyes, I took a shaky breath. “I’m gonna head back in.”

“I’m going to call Finch,” she said. “I’ll meet you in there.”

I nodded and walked back into Kennedy’s room.

Kennedy

I felt like I was swimming in tar. I could hear quiet voices, but I couldn’t seem to reach the light. Something heavy was on my chest and I could feel the pulse in my leg. Pain shot through it as the blood pounded in my veins.

“Kennedy, baby, can you wake up?”

Mom?

“She’s moaning, but I don’t think she can hear me.”

I can hear you.

“I’m gettin’ a nurse,” Mouse said, sounding panicked.

I’m here, I screamed in my mind, then blackness.

* * *

I came to in waves. My pain was blissfully gone, and I didn’t feel hot anymore, but that made me wonder if I was dead.

Do you feel thirsty in the afterlife?

I forced my eyes open and glanced around the room. Mom was asleep in a chair by the window, Dad was on the bench in the window that was so narrow, I couldn’t imagine it was comfortable for him, considering he was six-feet-five and built like a wrestler.

Remington was in a chair next to my mom, and I noticed my brothers’ jackets, but they weren’t physically in the room. I rolled my neck to my right and Mouse was sacked out in the chair next to me, his hand touching mine, so I squeezed it and his eyes flew open and met mine. “Hey,” he whispered, standing and leaning over me. “What do you need?”

“Water,” I rasped, and he nodded, pouring me a cup and guiding the straw to my mouth.

“Trish,” he called quietly, and my mom awakened immediately and jumped up.

She stroked my dad’s cheek as she passed him on her way to me. “Greg, honey, she’s awake.”

Remington stood slowly and smiled at me as she let my