over here?” Sloane patted the counter, and to my utter surprise, Ellie hopped up and did what she asked. “Thanks!” She grinned like she was talking to anyone else. “You good?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
My mother slowly turned to peek over her shoulder at me as the girls left the kitchen.
“What the hell is happening?”
“Don’t question a good thing.” Dad shoved a forkful into his mouth.
After a quick shower, I heard voices outside and pulled the curtain back to find Sloane and Ellie out by the car. Sloane was explaining the car to her and where they were going.
I slid my watch back over my wrist as I headed downstairs and outside, but not before I noticed both my parents were in the same room. They weren’t talking, but they were both in the same room. The fact that Pops didn’t immediately run outside and my mother wasn’t already in tears was…strange.
Once Sloane spotted me, she helped Ellie in the back and slipped into the front seat. During the drive into town Ellie told stories, and the few times she got nervous, Sloane steered the conversation in a different direction. I zoned out, wondering what the hell was happening with the North Rock situation. It has been entirely too quiet, and we should have been sent back to Mexico days ago. It was hard having your head split in two different halves, home and work.
The waiting room had a fish tank, which entertained Ellie while I checked my email. Three calls came in on Sloane’s phone, and I noticed each time she would decline the call.
“Ellie Black,” the nurse called, and Ellie looked at me in sudden panic.
“Just like we spoke about.” Sloane pulled Ellie’s attention to her and used a calm voice as she reached out and helped Ellie walk toward the nurse.
“I’m scared, John.”
“Don’t be.” I forced myself to allow Sloane to take the lead as we moved into a secondary room.
“What-what are we doing here?” She started to panic, and Sloane asked to speak to the nurse outside the room. “I don’t like this room, John.” Tears broke her dam, and she ran to me. I was ready for another epic battle.
Shit, sometimes I was just too tired for the fight. Again, guilt and pain smacked me across the face like a heartless bitch.
“I know it’s scary, but I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She curled into a ball on the chair, and I wanted to hug her and make all the panic go away, but I knew that wouldn’t help. Nothing seemed to help.
“Hey, Ellie, check this out!” Sloane came in with energy, and I sagged into the chair. I had nothing left.
“Okay,” she sat next to Ellie with her phone and showed her some pictures, “this is where they’re going to take you. See this room right here?” She swiped the phone and pointed to something. “You’ll lie down, and then they’ll take pictures of your head. Just to see what’s going on in there.”
“Because of the accident.” She sniffed like she was following.
“Right, to make sure everything is still okay.”
“If I’m not?” she challenged.
“Do you feel okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’re okay.”
The nurse came in, and Sloane handed Ellie the phone. “Follow the pictures, and you’ll know what’s going on.”
“’Kay.” She nodded once before she looked at me and left. No screaming, no fights, just left.
I wanted to talk to Sloane to ask her how the hell she knew to do all this stuff, but my phone rang.
“Black,” I answered sharply.
“You planning on coming to California, or did you get what you needed from our last phone call?” Trigger’s voice boomed through the speaker.
“Been a rough couple of weeks, man, but if that’s all Brick was doing in Mexico, I think we’re good.”
“Well, I got something for ya. I tried calling Irons, but he’s busy with shit, so I’m bringing it to you.”
“All right.”
“Cray heard that a cartel had one of your radios. Said it had orange triangle buttons.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“They must have poached it from the kid.”
“Any way they can find your channel?”
“There’s no way, and we talk in code.”
There was a long stretch of silence.
“What?” I asked.
“Don’t know, man. Something feels off.”
“It has from the very start,” I agreed, but I also knew Trigger was extra sensitive since he’d found a mole within his club.
“Any chance you have a—”
“No.” I cut him off.
“How do you know?”
“Call it gut intuition.” We learned our lesson with York.