Goodbye complete, Samuel nodded once and turned to go.
“Dad?” He waited for his father’s eyes to meet his. “Thanks for, uh…everything.”
In a fast move, the man he never thought he’d have a relationship with wrapped his arms around Jamie’s shoulders. “I love you, son.”
The comfort of the warm embrace, and the words accompanying it, came as a pleasant surprise, and he lifted his arm to hug his dad back. “I love you too. Give Mom a kiss for me, and tell her I’ll call as soon as I can.”
“You got it.” After a solid thump to the back, he let Jamie go and made his way to the exit, where he hesitated with his hand on the knob. “Be safe, kid.”
He snorted, but his grin damn near broke his face as his dad left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Compelled by forces stronger than he was, he grabbed his crutches, hobbled his way to the window, and peaked between the curtains.
Samuel made himself comfortable in the rental car, then tapping the brakes, he started the engine, put the transmission in gear, and drove out of the parking lot. A mixed bag of emotions, Jamie watched until the car disappeared down the street.
Step one complete, and feeling the effects of being on his feet for longer than he had in days, he sank his ass into the closest chair and dug the last of his burner phones out of his pocket. Damn, he didn’t want to make this call.
He didn’t want to be a disappointment to Jay. Didn’t want to let his teammates down. But he couldn’t be what they needed him to be either. He couldn’t follow orders when it came to leaving Johnson alive and in play. The prick had to die, and making it happen was the only motivation he had for getting his sorry ass out of bed.
His heart heavy, he ripped the band-aid off and dialed the emergency number he’d memorized more than two years ago. Answered on the first ring, Jay didn’t mince any words. “It’s about fucking time, asshole. Where are you?”
“Springfield. A little inn on the outskirts of town.”
“Samuel still with you?”
“He just left.” Not a shock Jay knew about Jamie’s father. He would have hacked into the hospital’s CCTV and seen them leaving together on camera.
“You know the two of you almost bought it during your great escape.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Johnson’s goons. They were on the elevator next to the one your father loaded you into. Three seconds later, and they would’ve had you both in their sights.”
“Shit!” Fear for his father gripped him. If Johnson’s men had been close enough to finish what the gunman had started, they wouldn’t have hesitated to take out anyone helping him.
“Yeah. You need to get your ass back here ASAP.”
Jamie shook his head, the ache inside his chest growing larger in Samuel’s absence. “Can’t. Johnson—”
“Going after Johnson alone is a stupid fucking idea. We need to stick together on this. Come back to Montana, and we’ll—”
“Ican’t,Jay. He killed Kosamina and her baby. I can’t fucking let him live. Not one second longer than necessary.”
“The baby’s not dead.”
Unable to process what he’d heard, his brain ground to a halt while the buzzing heater next to him pumped out hot air, the warm currents wafting through his long hair.
“Did you hear me?” Jay repeated for the third or fourth time. “The baby’s alive. We have her. She’s safe. But she needs you, Jamie. You need to come home.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
Chaos.Complete. Total. Utter. Chaos. Two days before Christmas, Jay woke at his desk to the sound of the baby crying. No, not crying. Wailing. At the top of her tiny lungs. The sound carrying all the way from the kitchen.
He peeled his face off the desk, sat up, and attempted to stretch by lifting his arms over his head. Grabbing his wrist with the opposite hand, he leaned from one side to the other, his muscles pulling in unpleasant protest. Yeah, he now had the flexibility of a six-by-six block of wood.
As a former junior boxing champion, he’d been in phenomenal shape in his uni days. Now he needed physical therapy to stand upright. He added making an appointment with Eve to the mental list of things he had to do. With her help, he’d work out the worst of his kinks, in a non-kinky kinda way, and then he’d get back to a regular exercise routine.
Which reminded him, he needed to ask Zander to hang a punching bag in the corner of the gym, maybe get a speedball, skipping rope, some training gloves. The desire to hit something had come home with him from Boston. Okay fine. Not something. Someone.
To be specific, he still wanted to put his fist through Jamie’s face.
