The ice was the most amazing thing he’d ever tasted, the cold shocking him farther awake.
“There you are.” Isaac caught his eye, and knowing fingers ghosted over his forehead, across his cheek and settled under his jaw. “Hi.”
“Hi. I want to go home. Tell them it’s good.” Hospitals were for sick people. Isaac knew that.
“I don’t think you’re ready just yet, boy. Let’s see what your doctor says.” Isaac took his hand. “We’ll talk when you’re more rested.”
“’kay.” He was too tired to argue, too sore to try and get his shit together. He wanted to curl up with his men and sleep like Rip Van Winkle.
“More ice?” Isaac touched his lips with the spoon.
“Please.” His throat felt like he’d been fucked with a wire brush.
Isaac fed him ice chips and they were just quiet for a bit, which is how he knew something wasn’t right. Isaac should have been telling him about how he’d fucked up the other guy, or about his patients at work, or what Alain had made for dinner. And Alain was sleeping in a chair and not talking at all.
Finally he just asked. He had to. He wasn’t one to shy away from the truth. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Isaac shook his head. “Just thinking.”
“What about?” What was so important that Isaac was a million miles away?
“About…well, about you. Because I understand wanting to get out of here. I’d like you at home too.”
“Good. I’ll talk to the doctor when he comes in.” Like he couldn’t heal at home. “The precinct will get a good trainer in for me.”
Isaac set the cup of ice down and rubbed his arm. “Sure. Hopefully you can do some of the rehab at home. That would be great.”
“Mmhmm. There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” He must look like shit, but Isaac to be so…weird. “If y’all want to go home, I’ll have someone drive my truck over to pick me up, then drive me home.”
“What? Neil, we’re not going anywhere. You just had surgery. I’m not even sure where your truck is at the moment. Do you remember anything at all?”
“I was… I was… I was…” Wait. Okay. Okay, think. “Biscuits for breakfast. With sausage. No gravy because the…milk was bad?”
Isaac nodded. “Right. And then you went to work…”
“Yeah. We were doing paperwork, and—” And he needed to figure out how to get to IA, tell them that Barnette was dirty. Maybe the whole family. Definitely the brother. Fuck.
What was he going to do?
“And you went to meet with your CI…”
He frowned. No. No, that wasn’t right. That didn’t sound right. He… “I don’t remember that.”
“Well, your partner said that’s what you were doing when you were attacked. I didn’t know you had a partner.”
The world got very quiet, like the universe had tightened around his head. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. “Take the IV out. Take it out. Now.”
“No.” Isaac’s hands landed on his shoulders. “No. No-no. You’re safe. Relax, Neil.”
“No, we have to go. You and Kitten, you can’t stay here. We have to go.” He didn’t know why, but that didn’t matter. His gut says it was time to go.
“Neil, you can’t even move yet.” Isaac held him down, locking eyes with him. “Master Cyrus and Master Les are outside; they’ve been taking turns with some of our other friends and they’re not letting anyone in that I haven’t seen before. I wondered why there wasn’t a police detail on your room, but I’m starting to get the picture. Alain and I are safer here than at home right now.”
“How can you have a picture when I don’t remember? How can you—” He started gasping for air, pure panic flooding him, and he grabbed wildly for his Master.
“Neil.” Isaac’s tone was strong and stern. “Boy. Breathe.” Isaac grabbed his hands and held them down. “Trust me. I’ve got you.”
Those eyes held him like a vise, and he clung to them like they were life preservers. He could breathe with his Master there. Somehow.