I grit my teeth. “For the third time, no.”
He rocks his head back like he might be sick. “We never should have left her locked up.”
The leather of the steering wheel creaks under my fists and my vision blurs at the edges. “I swear to god Oz, if you don’t shut up, I will pull over and you can walk to the damn hospital.”
Behind me, Eli throws his phone down on the back seat. “She’s still not fucking answering. I’ve tried from all of our phones.”
Images of Jude and Freya lying hurt on the floor flash through my mind. A stone fist clenches my heart. “I’m going to throttle that woman.”
Eli grunts. “Get in line.”
“Are we even heading to the right hospital?” Oz asks, running a palm over his beard.
“It’s the nearest one,” I answer but he’s right. I have no idea. For all I know, we could be driving in the wrong direction as my friend bleeds to death.
Freya better have a damn good excuse for not answering her phone.
After what feels like an age, we get to the local hospital. The scent of antiseptic catches in my throat and the florescent lights bounce off the linoleum floor.
The woman behind the desk doesn’t have time for me and I have to slap my FBI badge down on the rounded counter before she even looks my way.
Her graying hair is pulled back in a bun and her eyes are dull. “Patient name?”
“Jude Elroy,” I snap because I’ve already told her twice.
She turns to her computer. “And your relationship to him?”
“River Park. I’m listed as his next of kin.” The nature of our jobs means we’re all listed as each other’s next of kin for exactly this situation. I’m not waiting around for Jude’s vapid mother to turn up to find out what’s wrong with him.
“He’s in surgery. The surgeon will update you once he’s finished. You can wait over there with his girlfriends.”
Girlfriends.Plural?
The nurse points down the hall to a waiting area and I turn around to see double.
Freya,our Freya, is sitting across from an old police officer as he takes notes. She’s wearing a navy scrub top and remnants of dried blood smudge her bare arms.
Next to her, in the corner, her legs pulled up to her chest on the plastic chair, is Angelica. They’re eerily identical but where Freya’s ginger hair falls in curls and waves, Angelica’s hangs flatand matted. Blood splatters cover her left hand and I no longer need Freya to tell me what happened.
I stride over to the woman who tears me up inside. The police officer interviewing her looks up and his partner strolls over from the water cooler, paper cup in hand. I flip my badge and point at Angelica. “Special Agent River Park, acting chief of the SCU. I’m taking that woman into custody.”
“River, no.” Freya stands up and levels me with a cold look. “You will not arrest her.”
I flip my badge closed and step forward, closing the gap between us. “She’s a fugitive of the state.”
She has to crane her neck to look up at me but fire rages in her eyes. “According to you, so am I.”
Freya holds her ground. In the corner, Allie hugs her knees, chewing on the tip of her thumb. It makes her look younger than her sister and I recall Freya telling me once that Allie gets like this sometimes, that her trauma makes her act younger than she is.
I take a steadying breath and glance at the police officers. “Give us a moment?”
The officers head down the hall, and I turn my attention back to Freya. My eyes sweep over her, checking for injuries. The blood on her skin has fury thundering through me but I’m pretty confident it’s not hers. I pinch her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilt her head up, tracing every line of her face until I’m happy she’s unharmed. “You hung up on me.”
Freya knocks my hand away and steps back.
I glance over at Angelica. “Did she shoot him?”
Freya hesitates for a moment but then dips her head and mutters, “Yes.”
