Page 49 of Decision
Dim lights shone from the kitchen and living room windows. The soft glow should have been welcoming. He wasn’t coming home to an empty house, after all, like he’d done so often in the past, but Charlotte and Ty would be asleep.
She’d locked the door. Good girl. A short beep greeted him, and he disabled the “stay” mode, resetting the alarm once he’d closed the door.
Cell phone still in hand, he texted,“You okay?”Several long moments passed before the device vibrated, showing an incoming call.
He’d been so tied up the last few hours he’d not had a chance to contact Bo. Likely, the same held true for Bo.
“Hey, Bo. How ya doing?”Why aren’t you home, asleep like you should be?
“I’m fine. Yolanda is still shaken up. We’re at Mercy General.”
Young, scared and pregnant meant Bo’s penchant for using first names might pay off and win the girl’s cooperation. Thank God he’d gotten her to the hospital.
“She’s going to be okay, right? The baby okay?”
Bo’s sigh likely produced gale force winds. “She thinks she’s going to jail for the rest of her life. That’s what the traffickers told her.”
“Fuckers.” She’d said the same to Cruz, no matter that he’d tried to tell her otherwise. How else could the lowlifes get themselves free labor, who took all the risks with none of the rewards? Yolanda’s gaunt appearance also suggested she hadn’t been fed regularly or well.
“Would you believe those assholes wouldn’t even let her see a doctor? She’s eight months pregnant and she’s had no prenatal care. None.” Lucky imagined Bo pacing, running a hand through his hair.
“What about the father?” She’d told Cruz the father died. Although she tugged at Lucky’s heartstrings a bit, he wasn’t totally trusting. If she changed her story…
Bo paused a long moment. Weighing his words, maybe? “At first she lied and said the father died. Then she told me she doesn’t know who the father is. The men she worked for… used her.” Fuck. Worse even than the father dying. Though he might still be dead.
“Fucking hell.” If Lucky caught the bastards, he’d cut their damned balls off. Then kill them. “That poor kid. How old is she anyway?”
“She says she’s nineteen. The cartel took her papers. She’s been used as a pawn in the drug trade since she was fifteen.”
Motherfuck! Lucky spun around the living room, searching for something to punch. Doing nothing rubbed his skin raw. “You coming home soon?”
“Can’t. I promised her I’d stay a while. They’re bringing in a day shift nurse fluent in Spanish, but I’m needed to interpret until she gets here.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Huh?”
“Are you hungry?”
Bo let out a weary-sounding sigh. “I could eat. The hospital cafeteria closes at night, and there’s nothing in the vending machine that won’t rot your arteries. Some of the choices might be evil enough to steal my soul. Why?”
“You said you’re at Mercy?”
“Yeah. They’re less expensive and don’t balk as much about no insurance. But you don’t have to come. It’s late. Get some sleep.”
Yeah, right. Like he’d ever sleep again after seeing a kid who couldn’t be more than sixteen plunge out the window to his death. He’d not tell Bo right now. More than anything, Lucky needed a hug.
Badly.
But… Where was he going to find something for Bo to eat at this hour? No leftovers in the fridge. Oh well, one place never closed. Ever.
Wherever he went, chances were they didn’t have decaf green tea. Lucky used Bo’s little one cup dispenser, twice, tore open stevia packets, and poured everything into a thermos.
A trip to the Waffle House armed him with hash browns, smothered, covered, diced and capped. Which to anyone not familiar with that particular eating establishment, meant grilled onions, melted cheese, grilled tomatoes, and mushrooms. Plus, dry wheat toast.
Lucky ate his burger and fries in the car. Yeah, Bo was only looking out for him, wanting him to eat healthy, but sometimes, a man needed comfort food.
He located Bo in a waiting room on the maternity floor. Bo flashed a weary smile he couldn’t maintain. “I’ve only got a few minutes. If she wakes up and I’m not there, she’ll be upset.”
