School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,47

time in the pool—blanched under the wheat color.

His bottle-green eyes were almost lost behind their squint, and every deliberate breath grated on Ellery’s nerves.

Jackson had spent, by Ellery’s count, nearly a year and a half of his life, at one time or another, under a hospital roof. By their last stay, together as it were, his hatred had morphed into a full-on phobia.

When Jackson had gone in for surgery, the doctors had released him early because it was either that or sedation. Just being at the hospital made his heart rate spike higher than was good for anybody, much less a patient recovering from heart surgery.

“You okay?” Ellery asked, keeping his voice extra casual.

“Peachy.” Which was sort of Jackson code for “I’m losing my shit, thank you, but I’ll be damned if I let anybody see.”

“Of course,” Ellery acknowledged. As they were walking, he got close enough to bump Jackson’s shoulder and brush their fingers together. Jackson’s pinky finger, cold and clammy, curled around his for a minute before they separated.

Ellery knew that if Jackson had his way, it was as much comfort as he’d ever be offered in the matter.

KRYZYNSKI’S CONDITION was listed as critical but stable, and they were told he had a night in the ICU before he would be released to standard care. The waiting room was down a stark white corridor, and it was clotted with cops. Henry stood in the hallway, talking to an intensely beautiful man with almond-shaped brown eyes, dark hair, and faintly dusky skin. Lance Luna, his doctor boyfriend, looked at Jackson and Ellery as they rounded the corner with a combination of irritation and gratitude.

“He kept saying you were on your way,” he said as they approached.

“We apologize,” Ellery said. “There was an incident at the jail, and we were held up.”

Henry squinted at him. “Who hit you?”

“That’s the incident,” Jackson said grimly. “And one of the guards hit him.”

“Hit Ellery?” Henry asked in surprise. “I would have thought it would’ve been you!”

“It was supposed to be me,” Jackson retorted. “But I ducked and Ellery—”

“Didn’t,” Ellery said with a brief smile that still hurt. “It’s not Jackson’s fault I irritated the guard.”

“And it’s not Ellery’s fault that he was taking payoffs to beat on a seventeen-year-old kid who had no business being there,” Jackson rasped. “Junior,” he said to Henry, “I hope you’re ready to run your ass off tomorrow. We have got some plans.”

Henry nodded, looking very sober. “But before that happens….”

“How is he?” Ellery asked. “You said he was asking for us?”

“He is,” Lance told them. He looked at the watch on his wrist and made a frustrated sound. “I’m on my break. I can get you in, but not for long. I’m sort of working here.”

“We appreciate your help,” Jackson said. “Maybe Dave and Alex can take over?” Ellery looked at Henry and saw his grin.

“I am just crushing it with the catering today,” Henry said. “Ice cream for the pregnant cop, pizza for the nurses. I should change my career.”

“Did any of those people tip?” Jackson asked, at the same time Lance said, “I bet it would be safer!”

Henry smirked. “No, nobody tipped, and yes, yes it would be safer, but I would be both broke and bored, so I think Jackson’s right and I should stay with my current job.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Of course Jackson’s right,” he muttered. “But if one of your nurse friends can come supervise, you can stay a little longer. C’mon.”

He turned and beckoned to them to follow him across the corridor, but not before a harsh voice called out from the full waiting room.

“Rivers! What in the hell are you doing here?” An older officer, still in uniform, charged out of the room.

Jackson turned, his expression neutral. “Kryzynski asked for me.”

“I’ll just bet he did. Aren’t you the one who got him stabbed in the first place?”

Ellery bet the other cop didn’t see it, the tightening around Jackson’s eyes, the slight softness to Jackson’s lower lip. The shaft had hit home, but nobody was going to know Jackson Rivers was bleeding.

“Interesting that you’re only wondering about that now,” Henry said, moving up to Jackson’s other side. “’Cause when we were at your precinct, not a soul had heard about it.”

Jackson turned slowly to Henry with big eyes and a slightly parted mouth. “Henry,” he said, voice toneless.

But Henry was unstoppable. “We couldn’t even get your two flatfoots to call a detective and do forensics on a doorknob that had