WHO ARE YOU – MEHRO
My fingertips slideback and forth over the gauze on my forehead, absently fiddling with the adhesive edges. Prescription painkillers aside, I’m nursing a straight whiskey while contemplating the late night skyline.
Behind me, the sound of ice clinking on glass breaks the awkward silence. Warner retrieved the unopened bottle of single malt from his desk for our sombre mood. Though he outright refuses to pour Hyland a measure.
“Can I get a refill?” I raise my glass hopefully.
“No.” Liquid splashes into his. “You shouldn’t be drinking at all.”
“Be glad that you got one,” Hyland groans nearby.
“Some of us got discharged.” I whirl to glower at him.
He’s sprawled out on our sofa, chest bare and covered in blackish-purple clouds. Every inch of him bears the evidence of our near death experience. Hyland can barely move, but he still insisted on coming home to recover.
“I’m not spending another second in a hospital bed,” he grumbles.
“You’re the first to lecture me about my health, but you flee in the face of medical advice when the doctors want to keep you in for another night. Swelling or not, you should’ve stayed there.”
“My CT scan was all clear.”
“I don’t care!”
He adjusts the pillow tucked behind his neck, keeping pressure off his bandaged head wound. “I didn’t need to hear anything else. Got a clean bill of health and a lovely stack of pills. Job done.”
“You were hit by a van!”
“Don’t waste your breath, Em.” Warner is clearly exhausted and limping with each stunted step. “He’s as stubborn as a mule.”
“Why did you agree to pick him up?”
“Because if I didn’t, he would’ve walked instead, and I was already dealing with keeping Tom at bay. He was ready to hightail over here himself to check on you.”
Shit, I need to call my brother back. My phone was inside Hyland’s SUV while I ran. I didn’t need it with him following hot on my heels. Unfortunately, that also means it’s now a puddle of melted glass and plastic.
Hyland chuckles weakly. “Not quite. But I would’ve gotten a cab.”
“When someone tried to kill you twenty-four hours ago?” I jab a finger at him.
“They were obviously just eliminating your protection,” he refutes. “Look how that turned out for them.”
“I’m looking, Hy. We’re a mess.”
For once, Hyland’s smart mouth clicks shut. He’s in no position to argue. By all accounts, it’s miraculous that neither of us were more seriously injured.
Behind the breakfast bar, Warner knocks back an amber shot then pours another. It doesn’t escape my attention that hedoesn’t offer one to the dark shadow in the corner, silent and contemplative.
Axel hasn’t uttered a word since we got home. Not even when Warner requested that Blaine give us some time to talk. The Phantom didn’t say much, all too happy to depart this boiling pan of tension to take a stroll.
“Do we have an update?” I finish my final mouthful.
“Kade called.” Warner refills his glass again, barely landing the whiskey inside without spilling. “Bodies have been ID’d as two thugs, known to police.”
“Motive?” Hyland grunts.
“Unclear, but it’s likely they saw Gael’s dark web ad. Fancied themselves a payday.”
“Any signs of other players?” I ask carefully.
