needed to do was blow off steam.
Hammer was full of shit. I worked. That’s what I did. I didn’t have time for, or interest in, relationships. Not even friendships. I could count the friends I had on one hand. There were probably lots more who considered themselves my friends, but to me, they were just acquaintances. I sure as hell didn’t have time to play nursemaid to Siren.
I looked up and realized I was back where I started, standing in front of my hotel that was next to the hospital. I went inside and was about to take the elevator up to the surgical floor when I saw the doctor who had performed Siren’s surgery. He looked like he was leaving.
“Hey, Doc,” I said, standing between him and the exit door. “I have a question about Siobhan Gallagher.”
He sighed and looked at his watch. “I told you yesterday that we—”
I held up my hand. “I’ll save you the trouble of repeating yourself. What happens when she’s ready to be discharged? I mean, if she hasn’t regained her memory?”
“In those instances, it’s usually up to the family. Our experience is that those who go home, if you will, recover far more quickly.”
“And if they don’t have family?”
He shrugged. “That isn’t my area of expertise.”
“What happens?” I pressed.
“Their recovery can be…difficult. At best.”
“Thanks.” I stepped aside and let the man go by. After a few minutes, I walked in the same direction he had, but then stopped and turned around as the words I’d said to myself earlier repeated. Siren isn’t someone I can walk away from.
* * *
It didn’t take a genius to figure out why people like me went into my line of work. While some had families, the majority didn’t. It was true for Siren and me both. My father had died years ago, and it had been three years since I lost my mother. If I had to guess, I’d say ninety percent of those who worked in intelligence had no family to speak of. What’s more, they were loners. I sure as hell was, and so was Siren.
Hammer said he’d contact the Invincibles’ partners and see who could step up to the plate to help her, given I wasn’t willing. There wasn’t anyone she’d feel comfortable with. Including me—once she got her memory back.
I pulled out my phone and sent him a text. Three words, but he’d know what they meant. I got this.
It wasn’t more than ten seconds before I received his response. Proud of you, Smoke.
* * *
Siren was awake when I got upstairs.
“You look like hell,” she said when I walked in.
I smiled and pulled up a chair. “Any change?”
She rested her head against the pillow, closed her eyes, and then opened them a few seconds later. “No.”
“Hey, now,” I said when I saw her tears. I scooted the chair closer and put my hand on her arm. “You were shot, kiddo. In the head. Your recovery is going to take a while.” I felt her left arm twitch, so I moved my hand. She turned hers over. “See? You’re already making progress.”
“Because I can turn my wrist?”
I looked up into her blue-gray eyes. “Yes, because you can move your wrist.”
“What am I going to do?” she whispered.
I took a deep breath. What I was about to say could change both of our lives, if not forever, for weeks, maybe even months. “Do you remember anything about your family?”
“My mother’s dead.” Her eyes opened wide. “I remember. She is, right?”
“When you were a teenager. Anything else?”
Siren shook her head.
“Your father wasn’t a part of your life, and you don’t have siblings.”
“I’m all alone,” she whispered, so softly I could barely hear her even as close as I was.
“You’re not.” I took another deep breath. “You have me, and this is what we’re going to do.” I got up from the chair, walked over to the door, and locked it. When I turned around, Siren’s eyes were like saucers. “There are things I need to tell you that I don’t want anyone to overhear.” I sat back down. “Do you remember me telling you that we both work in intelligence?”
“Yes.”
“While the mission we were on when you were shot was for a different organization, you actually work for IMI—Irish Military Intelligence.”
“Do you work for them as well?”
“I do not. I was with the agency—the CIA—up until a few months ago. Now I freelance. IMI doesn’t know the extent of your injuries nor the…challenges you’re facing.