Page 133 of You Make Me Feel
SADIE
It’s four in the morning by the time I’m seen by a doctor, because this is a small hospital and they have what I heard one of the orderlies call ‘a major incident’ on their hands. It’s also swarming with police.
And not one of them will answer my questions about Zach. Is he hurt? Or something worse? I can barely sit still as the doctor reviews my notes and asks me questions about pain.
“I’m fine,” I say, as he checks my face and head for any cuts. “Is there any news on Zach Fitzgerald?”
The doctor swallows and I know there is. “I’m afraid I can’t share that information without his consent.”
I scrunch my face, because the man is hurt because of me. “Please?” I say. “I just need to know if he’s okay.”
“He’s stable.” A voice comes from the doorway. I look up to see West, filling all the available spacethere. He’s still wearing his tux, though his tie is gone and his shirt is unbuttoned.
“Do you know this man?” the doctor asks me. I nod quickly, because West has news about Zach and I’m desperate for it.
“I’m her lawyer,” West says. “I’d like to talk to my client alone when you’re done. There are FBI agents waiting outside.”
The FBI? I lift a brow. Jesus, Darien is in so much trouble.
The doctor shines a light into my eyes and it makes me wince. After a few more questions he gives me a satisfied nod. “Okay, you’re good to go. Any pain or nausea, call the hospital right away.” He looks at West, whose expression is suitably intimidating. Not that the doctor seems to care. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
He walks out and West closes the door behind him. He has a bag in his hands and he pulls out a pair of joggers and a hoodie. “Eden’s,” he says. “She asked me to give them to you.”
My heart tightens. I don’t deserve this. I caused her brother to get hurt and she’s giving me clothes?
“Zach?” I say softly. “How bad is he?”
West pulls up a chair and sits next to the bed I’m being discharged from. “He’s still unconscious.”
“Is the bullet still in him?” God, let it have been a graze.
West tips his head to the side. “He wasn’t shot. The asshole collapsed because he shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” His eyes catch mine. “He was hit pretty bad on the head by your ex in his apartment. He insisted on going with Asher to the bookshop when he should have been taken to the hospital. And then he insisted on beingon the damn boat even though the man’s a walking liability. He refused to listen to sense.”
“That sounds like Zach.” Tears start stinging my eyes, threatening to fall. “The head injury. It’s bad?”
“They’ve stabilized him. He’s getting a CT scan. And of course Hudson’s having the best neurologist flown in.” He takes a breath, like he knows I need the truth. “But until he wakes up we won’t know much more.”
I start to shake. I can’t help it. “Can I see him?”
“In a while. Once he’s situated in the ICU. Right now there are two agents waiting outside to talk to you and I need to make sure you’re ready to answer them.”
Oh, so he really is here as my lawyer. That makes my heart hurt even more. “Do they want to know about Darien?” I blink. “Is he here in the hospital too?” It was all such a blur after the gunshots. I remember being taken by one of Asher’s men off the boat and onto land. I heard a helicopter, I assume that’s how Zach got to the hospital. As for Darien, I’ve not heard what happened to him.
“On the floor above, yeah. There aren’t a lot of choices around here. Asher shot him in the shoulder. His own bullet went into the fucking ocean.” West gives a little chuckle. “Apparently the asshole screamed like a pig.”
“Good.” My mouth wobbles. “You must all hate me for what happened to Zach.”
Two tiny lines appear between West’s brows. “Why would we hate you? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I took the painting. Which had a bank account number on the back.” I tell West about Darien dragging me there, taking the photo of the account number. “It’s Swiss, or at least that’s what he says.”
“I’m pretty sure the FBI will be happy to hear all about that.” He runs a thumb over his jaw. “Apparently Darienlost his phone in the ocean and that made him scream more.”
“He dropped his phone?” My eyes widen. “That was the only record of the number. He made me erase it off the painting.”
West’s lips twitched. “That’s a bummer for him. And I’m guessing that’s what the agents want to ask you about. Apparently, Darien was part of a bigger operation. Some kind of international gang is involved. If Darien’s lost the account number, he’s going to have a lot of unhappy people to deal with.”
“Good.”
