TEARS STREAMING DOWN MY face, my hands shaking, I dropped my phone twice before my fingers clutched around it.
I swiped to dial and had hit the nine when the back door of the gym flew open.
“Dios mio.”
Marcus convulsed again, and I dropped my phone.
A guy in all black I’d never seen before dropped to a squat next to us. “What’d he take?” He grabbed Marcus’s shoulders and turned him to his side.
“Careful!” I reached for my phone. “He’s got a head injury. He needs an ambulance!” Desperate, terrified, I tried to hold on to Marcus’s head as I scrambled for my phone and started dialing again.
“This isn’t a head injury.” The guy in black snatched my phone out of my hand and tossed it a couple feet away. “Hold his head sideways.”
I freaked out. “Oh my God, stop! What are you doing? Call 911! He’s dying! Give me my phone!”
His hand covered mine. “Hold him, chica.” He brought his own phone to his ear and started speaking in Spanish.
Marcus’s chest lurched, and he threw up. The smell of vomit filled my nostrils as a gurgling sound wheezed out of his chest. “Marcus!” Oh my God. “Open your eyes.” I shook him.
“Easy, chica, easy,” the man warned.
A black SUV came down the alley and slammed on the brakes three feet from us.
The man gently pushed me aside. “Let me get him up.”
Realization hit and I really panicked. “No!” I grabbed the guy’s arm as two more men jumped out of the SUV. “What are you doing? You can’t take him. He needs to go to the hospital!”
The three of them lifted Marcus and slid him into the back seat like they’d done this a thousand times. I snatched my phone and stood.
The one who’d called me chica turned to me. “We are taking him to the hospital, Elyssia. We’ll get him there faster than an ambulance can. Give me your keys.” He held his hand out.
I momentarily stilled. “How do you know my name?”
“My name is André Luna. I own a personal security firm, Luna and Associates. I’m friends with Neil Christensen and Talon Talerco, but Mr. Stark sent me. Get in the SUV with your brother, and we’ll take him to the hospital. But first give me your keys so one of my men can bring your car.”
Not sure if I was relieved or angry anymore at Ben, I shoved my keys at André Luna and jumped in next to Marcus.
A half second later, André got in the passenger seat and barked an order to the guy behind the wheel. “Miami VA.”
“Copy,” the driver answered.
André turned in his seat and reached back, putting two fingers on the side of Marcus’s neck.
Holding Marcus’s head in my lap, I started rocking.
Andre’s hand curled around my shoulder. “He’s gonna be okay.”
“You don’t know that.” Tears started to fall down my cheeks.
“We’re not gonna let him die, chica.”
I registered the efficient mannerisms of André and the crisp answer the driver had given him. “You’re former military.”
“Yes, ma’am. Marines.”
I pushed Marcus’s sweaty hair off his forehead. He’d stopped convulsing but something was very, very wrong. “How do you know it’s not a head injury?” Seeing him this close, the bruising and swelling were even worse.
“He’s OD’ing.”
Oh God. I begged them to drive faster. “Please, hurry.”
The driver sped through the city streets and Miami traffic like he was a race car driver. We got to the hospital in minutes, then everything became a blur. Doctors, nurses, questions. I rattled off the answers I knew from years of repeating them. The two other men who’d been in the SUV disappeared, but André quietly stood by my side. When they ushered me into a waiting room, promising a doctor would come talk to me soon, André followed.
I looked up at his kind brown eyes. “How do you know Ben?”
“I don’t. I know Neil Christensen.”
Of course, the military connection. I nodded.
“You want me to get you some clean clothes?”
I looked down at my flip-flops, leggings, and sports bra. There was vomit on my pants, and suddenly, I was cold. “Yes, please.”
André pulled his phone out and sent off a text. A few seconds later, the driver appeared in front of us and André spoke rapidly to him in Spanish.
The driver nodded then left the same way he’d appeared, silently.
“You don’t have to wait with me.” I stared at my lap.
“Following orders, ma’am.”
Awesome. “If I tell you to leave, will you?”
Two heartbeats later, when he still hadn’t answered, I looked up.
Serious brown eyes, close cropped brown hair, olive skin, he looked at me with determination. “Even if you weren’t my assignment, I wouldn’t leave you here alone.”
“You don’t know me.” Or Marcus.
A smile spread across his stern face, replacing the formidable soldier with a roguish boyish charm. “Once a marine, always a marine. We don’t leave anyone behind.” He winked, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
A shitstorm of emotions already swirling in my head, I didn’t comment. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off and Marcus was in the hands of the doctors, I was reeling from the scene in the alley.
As far as I knew, Marcus had never hit anyone except me, but seeing him slap that girl…. I inhaled sharply and buried my face in my hands.
“He’s going to be okay.” André’s hand settled on my back. “They’ll take care of him here.”
I wasn’t sure anyone could take care of Marcus. I pushed to my feet and walked to the window. Leaning my forehead on the glass, I stared at the waiting room floor.
Black boots appeared in my line of vision. “PTSD?” André asked quietly.
“Yeah.” I didn’t see any point in denying it.
“How long has he been hitting the hard stuff?”
“He doesn’t do drugs. He drinks, but he doesn’t touch the illegal stuff. It interferes with his medications.”
“Looks like he upped his game.”
I didn’t say anything.
“What’s your plan?”
Good question. “Before or after I kick his ass for tonight?” I didn’t mean to show my frustration, but the words just came out.
André chuckled. “After.”
“No clue.”
“VA’s got a program to help him with this.”
“I know. He’s in it.” Nothing worked.
André was quiet a moment. “Lot of guys turn to the circuit after getting out. They try and fight their way to peace of mind. Sometimes it backfires.”
“Marcus isn’t in the circuit.” At least, not that I knew of. “He just trains like he is.” He’d wanted to be in the circuit, but I suspected even the trainer he’d had knew he was a loose cannon and dumped him. But that was another thing Marcus hadn’t talked with me about, so I didn’t know what was really going on. And any attempts to get him to find a regular job had ended in an argument, so I’d given up mentioning it.
Andre crossed his arms. “Did you know he’s been making the rounds here in Miami in the underground scene?”
“No, but I’m not surprised. He was a mess.”
“He’s had three fights that I know of.”
I looked up at André. “In one week?” He knew where Marcus had been and he hadn’t said anything to Ben? Or Ben hadn’t bothered to do something about it?
He nodded once. “The last match, he lost. And before you jump to conclusions, we only found him today. I know the situation. I wouldn’t have let him fight if we’d found him sooner.”
“Thank you.” Exhaling, I focused on what he’d said about Marcus losing. He’d never lost a fight. Marcus was relentless. “He never loses.”
“Rumor has it he threw the fight. He was favored to win. A lot of people lost a lot of money.”
Oh God. “Let me guess, and a few people made a ton.”
“You got it.”
This was worse than I’d thought. “He was with some guys in the gym….”
André nodded. “Killian Crowd.”
“Is that the guy with the dragon tattoo?”
André tipped his chin, but he looked pissed.
I hated fighter names, they were stupid. “He’s a piece of work.”
André sighed like he was tired. “A piece of work you embarrassed in front of a gym full of his fighters.”
“He was in my way.” It wasn’t my fault he was an asshole.
André’s smile was more resignation than humor. “I give you credit, girl, I do, but you sure know how to step in it.”
I didn’t get a chance to ask exactly what I’d stepped in because a doctor walked into the waiting room.
“Elyssia Maher?”
I stepped forward. “That’s me.”
He was about fifty with a stern expression and a take-no-crap attitude. I knew I wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “Ms. Maher, I’m Dr. Hudson. Do you know what kind of drugs your brother took tonight?”
I shrank under his disapproving stare. “No, sir. I’ve never known him to take drugs. He takes medication for depression and he drinks alcohol, but never drugs.”
The doctor’s lips thinned out. “Yes, well, we’ve got him stable, and we’re running tests. He’s unconscious, and he has a concussion. The bones in his left cheek are fractured, and he’ll need surgery for that after we clear this hurdle.”
Tears welled in my eyes.
“He also has two fractured ribs, and he’s lost one of his lower molars.” The doctor rattled off his injuries like a grocery list.
I clutched my arms around myself and bit my lower lip.
The doctor wasn’t finished. “Until we get the test results back or until he wakes up, we’re in a holding pattern. Any questions?”
I shook my head.
André’s hand landed on my back. “Can she see him?”
“Yes. The nurse will take her in. I’ll be back later to check on him.” He nodded crisply and turned to the nurses’ station and spoke quietly with one of the nurses. She glanced at us then smiled professionally.
A few seconds later, she was leading us through a maze of hallways that all looked the same. André kept pace with me while my mind struggled with a jumbled mess of emotions and questions. How did Marcus get a molar knocked out if he had a mouth guard in? Why was he taking drugs, what drugs had he taken? Why was he beaten so badly? Marcus didn’t go down easily. I’d only ever managed to get the upper hand on him one or two times when he was really drunk, but he never drank before a fight, not ever.
I walked into his room, but when I saw him in the hospital bed, my step faltered. André’s hand caught my arm to steady me as I stared at the tubes and machines wrapped all around Marcus’s still body. He looked half dead.
“I’ll be outside if you need me.” André gently pushed me forward then stepped into the hallway and shut the door.
I forced myself to close the few feet between me and the side of the bed, then I stared at the only family I had left. Inhaling, I let it out slow and fought back the sense of déjà vu.
“I’m not burying you too,” I whispered.
Machines beeped and hummed.
I hated him for doing this to me. I hated myself for hating him. I hated my mother for dying, and I hated whoever had done this to Marcus. I wanted to rip all the tubes away from him and shake him until he woke up while I screamed at the world to stop sucking.
But mostly, I just wanted Ben.
I dragged a chair next to the bed and sank into it.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. I looked up and André walked in.
“I’ve got a change of clothes for you.” He handed me a neatly folded pile in a plastic bag.
I stared at the bag. “These are my clothes.”
André nodded. “From your motel.”
“You know where I’ve been staying?” I should’ve realized what was going on when he appeared in the alley behind the gym, but I’d been too upset to process it. “You’ve been following me?”
“Just doing my job, ma’am,” he answered formally, before nodding at Marcus and quickly changing the subject. “How’s he doing?”
A new wave of tears threatened. “The same.”
“I’m sending one of my guys for takeout. Have you eaten dinner?”
I glanced around the room until I saw a clock on the wall. I was surprised it was almost ten. “I’m not hungry.”
André nodded and went back in the hall.
I used the soap in the bathroom to wash up and change, putting my dirty clothes in the plastic bag and tying it shut. In a fresh pair of leggings, sports bra and zip-up sweatshirt, I returned to my post and sat. I tried not to think about my mother, but everything about the stupid room reminded me of her last days. I dropped my head to my hands as another knock sounded at the door.
André strode in with a takeout container, and the room filled with the scent of meat and spices. He pulled the bedside table up to my chair, lowered it and placed the container on top. “Cuban, from my cousin’s place. It’s the real deal. It’s good and there’s nothing you’re allergic to in it.” He pulled a water and prepackaged fork and napkin out of the cargo pocket in his pants and set them down like a place setting. “Can I get you anything else?”
I frowned. “How did you know I have food allergies?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I make it my business to know these things.”
I stared at him, trying to figure out how my life had come to this or why he was even here. I was sure whatever favors or however much Ben had paid him, it didn’t include hospital meal delivery of allergen-free food. “You didn’t have to do this.”
His dark eyes studied me a moment. “I don’t have to do a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I won’t.”
The almost angry tone in his voice made me drop my gaze.
“Eat, chica.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“Welcome. I’ll be outside.”
I heard the door shut, and I opened the container. Pork, black beans, yellow rice, pickled onions and plantains. My mouth watered. I ate, but it felt wrong with Marcus unconscious next to me. When I’d finished as much as I could, I stepped out into the hall. Andre was in a chair right outside the door. His long legs stretched in front of him, his arms and ankles crossed, he looked up at me and raised an eyebrow.
I held the container out. “There’s a lot left, are you hungry?”
“I ate.” His brown eyes studied me like he was trying to figure something out.
“What do I owe you?”
“Stay away from Tension, and we’ll call it even.”
“I already planned on it.” I never wanted to go back there.
“Good.” He glanced at the container and started to get up. “I’ll get rid of that for you.”
“I’ll take care of it. I need to stretch my legs.” I looked toward the nurses’ station and saw a trash can by the elevator. “Be right back.”
André inclined his head at me, and I made my way down the hall. Most of the rooms were occupied with various signs on the doors I didn’t want to look at. I was shoving the container in the trash when the elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open. I turned and came face-to-face with Killian and two jerks from the gym.
“Looks like we got the right floor.” Killian sneered at me.
I glanced back at the nurses’ station, but it was empty. Damn it. I glared at Killian. “Leave.”
Laughing, he stepped forward and tugged a strand of my hair. “Not yet. Besides, I think you and I have unfinished business.”
I smacked his hand away. “No, we don’t.”
His smile turned vicious, like he had something to prove to his asshole friends. “Tell you what.” His fingers snaked around my upper arm and squeezed hard. “When I’m done talking to Marcus, I’ll show you how a woman should treat a man. What do you say?”
“She says no.” André stepped up next to me. “Let her go.” Even though his voice was quiet, André’s command made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Killian’s two men moved to either side of him as his fingers dug into my arm. “You too stupid to see you’re outnumbered? Take a walk. This is private business.”
“You ever serve?” André asked calmly.
Killian smirked. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
As if on cue, four VA security guards and two male nurses who looked like they’d just stepped off the battlefield appeared, surrounding Killian and the two guys with him.
Killian shoved me away from him.
André caught me around the waist and drew me into his side. “VA Hospital. VA Security. Veteran staff. If you’d served, you would’ve known what you were walking into.” André glanced at the nearest guard. “Escort them out. If they return, arrest them.”
The guard nodded and closed in on Killian. “Move.”
Right before Killian turned to go, he caught my eye. “Marcus owes us.”
André pulled me away. Halfway down the hall, his arm still around me, he quietly spoke. “You okay?”
My heart was pounding, my arm was smarting and it was hard to breath past the panic. “Fine.”
“I’ll make sure they don’t come back in here.”
“Thanks.” But that wouldn’t solve the problem. What the hell was I going to do when Marcus got released?
“We’ll worry about your brother’s release when he’s better,” André said, as if reading my thoughts.
“Okay.”
He led me back into Marcus’s room. “I’m gonna check to make sure they left, then let the nurses know to keep an eye out. Tyler is replacing me in a few minutes. If you need anything, let him know. I’ll check in tomorrow.”
“Thank you, for everything.” The few words didn’t seem like enough.
“De nada, chica. Take care of yourself.” André tipped his chin and left.
Hours passed and nothing changed. The doctor had come in and said we just had to wait till Marcus woke up. A nurse came twice to check his stats but still nothing changed. As the night bled toward a new day, exhaustion took over and my eyes closed.