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Saving Face Chapter 20

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STEVE TURNED, MEETING Detective O’Keefe’s sharp gaze and the layers of irritation bloomed. “You have got to be kidding me?”

“I’m just checking to see why Tom left school early and diverted from the route.”

“He got beat up at school,” Steve said and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sure you’re aware that an ambulance brought him here, right?”

“I knew an ambulance was dispatched to the school,” O’Keefe said, stuffing the paper he held back into his pocket. “But I wasn’t aware of the particulars.”

Steve crossed his arms and stared at the Detective. “You thought Tom hurt someone?” he asked, pulling the thoughts from O’Keefe’s mind.

O’Keefe shrugged in response.

“That’s such bullshit,” Steve muttered, his temper as raw as his nerves.

“Excuse me,” A voice interrupted from behind Steve.

He turned, taking in the petite red head holding Tom’s chart in her hand.

“Agent Williams,” she asked looking between Steve and the detective.

“Yes,” Steve ignored the flare of irritation coating his mind and focused on the doctor.

“Your son is banged up pretty badly, sir,” she started and scanned the chart. “This wasn’t an accident.” She leveled an accusatory glare in his direction.

“I’m aware it wasn’t an accident, but he’s refused to tell me who did this to him.”

“It wasn’t just one person, sir,” she said. “Out of all his injuries, his concussion is the one that concerns me the most. He’s having issues keeping his eyes focused and I’d like to keep him overnight for observation.”

Steve glanced at Detective O’Keefe and then back at the doctor. “I’d rather take him home,” he said and received a glare from the doctor.

“If you’re worried about the bill...”

Steve let a small laugh escape. This doctor was clueless as to who the patient in the room was, otherwise she would have known just how ludicrous that statement was. “No ma’am, cost is not an issue. I’d just feel more comfortable with him at home in his own room.”

“I don’t...”

Steve raised his hand, stopping her. “I’m sorry, but he’ll be safer at home,” he clarified, cutting off her protest.

“I assure you he will be safe here,” the doctor said.

“Really,” Steve said, crossing his arms and stiffening his stance. “I insist.”

Her lips thinned, and she traded a glance with the detective before nodding ascent. “Fine, I’ll have the nurse give you the instructions for his care and if he slips into a coma, it’s on you,” she said, her voice clipping with frustration.

“I’ll take that risk,” Steve said, and the doctor turned, huffing as she stomped away.

“I could have someone stationed here,” O’Keefe offered.

“And you did such a fantastic job protecting him before.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Tom will be fine at home,” he said. “And I know I can protect him.” He turned and entered the examination room, leaving O’Keefe in the hall.

Tom glanced at the nurse hovering by his side, checking his vitals and then back at Steve.

“I’ll have you out of here within the hour,” Steve said. And I’ll fix you up once we get home.

Tom signed a quick thank you with a wrist encased in a cast and then closed his eyes, laying his head back on the pillow.

Tom’s discomfort drifted over Steve. It was almost as acute as it had been in Georgia when he found him chained to that faux operating table. He hoped the pain medicine pumping into his IV would dull it enough so the ride home wasn’t sheer agony.

“The team did this, didn’t they?” Steve asked after the nurse left.

Tom’s eyelids fluttered open and he met Steve’s stare, offering no response. All his mind was broadcasting was a wall of static, shutting Steve off from the answers.

“You’re blocking me.”

A smile made a brief appearance and Tom’s eyes closed, cutting off any further conversation.

Less than an hour later, Steve had all the instructions for Tom’s care, and rolled him out of the exam room, heading toward the exit. Detective O’Keefe followed and when Steve passed the waiting room, he stopped and retraced his steps backwards. Shock filtered through him as his gaze landed on four football players from Tom’s school. The worst of the bunch was one of Tom’s best friends, but his injuries still didn’t compare to Tom’s.

Bear looked up and his eyes widened, his mind opening to Steve and giving him a blow by blow of the entire day. Steve’s hands tightened on the wheelchair handles and he turned away from Bear before the anger pulsing in his veins got loose. Without another word, he walked out and helped Tom into the car before heading home.