Chapter Twenty-Eight
Apparently, Fridays were the worst time to go to the ER. Nurses and doctors ran around the floor dealing with the first wave of DUI-related car accidents.
“Walker, is that you?”
“Conman!” His ex-partner headed straight for them from the lobby. He slapped hands with his exact opposite. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“An exotic locale full of bad guys,” the devilish version of Walker told him. They always got mistaken for brothers—or at least cousins. It had helped save their asses on their more unsavory missions.
“Ashe, is that you? I haven’t seen you in forever.” He dropped his hand down to kid height then shrugged. “Well, more like this.” Connor lifted his hand a little higher.
“Hey, Cons.” Ashe stepped forward to hug him.
“Don’t get any ideas, dude. We’re married,” Walker told him.
Connor gave a slick smirk behind Ashe’s back before Walker reached out and pulled her away.
“I’ve known Ashe forever,” Connor offered.
The two laughed at him. After Walker had spent his night fighting to keep her alive, he refused to entertain Connor’s crap.
“That’s never stopped you before—”
“I swear, one step closer with that needle and I will be forced to fuck you up,” a loud Spanish accent cut through all of the madness of the ER.
“Shit.” Panic slithered across Connor’s face. “Come on. You know how she gets.”
They walked fast along the corridor to a private room. “Hell, man, do you?” Walker asked pointedly. After Lola had stabbed Connor, he’d never thought those two would occupy the same state, let alone the same building.
Their small group hovered near the doorway to witness Lola’s meltdown. She was holding the hospital guard and nurse off with a food tray. Since she was still sporting her evening dress, the sight of her leaning on her IV stand seemed insane but adorable. Lola looked no worse for wear. A small bandage covered her head and a bigger one protected her shoulder.
“We need another vial of blood, ma’am, for testing. If you don’t comply—”
“Stand down.” Connor flashed his bullshit FBI badge. He had access to the Federal Bureau but no real agency credentials. Walker couldn’t believe he still pulled the same stunts he had ten years ago.
“It’s just that we need to get—”
“Come back later. She might be in a more cooperative mood.” Everyone who knew Lola laughed. Even she chuckled a little bit. Nevertheless, Connor’s charm did the trick and the staff left.
“Oh, babe.” He headed straight for Lola and wrapped his arms around her.
“You know the rule. One needle if I’m conscious.” As she complained, he guided her to her hospital bed.
“Sorry, sweetie. I would have teleported here if I could have.” He kissed her cheek before he let her go.
“Fine.” She pouted. “But next time…”
“Cut the man a break, Lola. He had to take the chopper.” Eden slipped into the room with the rest of the J8 crew behind her.
“Did you get the bastard that popped me?” Lola groaned, while Connor helped her back into her hospital bed.
“Shattered those kneecaps but good, honey. No 10ks for him.”
“That’s okay, I suppose.” Lola appeared unimpressed with her partner’s bloodlust.
“What about Snell?” Ashe’s voice shook at the mention of her tormentor’s name. “He claimed diplomatic immunity.”
Squeezing his wife’s hand for support, Walker could tell Snell’s admission was weighing on her.
“We won’t be able to prosecute him in the United States,” Eden admitted.
“Oh…”
“But he will be extradited to Sierra Leone to face charges of kidnapping, terrorism and murder. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“And Tariq?” she asked about the man who had doled out her abuse under orders from Snell.
“Dead. He was killed in a raid months after you were rescued. And C.T. is in surgery. You can go visit her once she gets out.”
Ashe leaned into his shoulder with a huge sigh. Walker placed a kiss on her forehead. “So, that’s it?” he asked, ecstatic that a dark cloud no longer hung over them.
“Yep, so it looks like you guys are free until Thanksgiving.”
“Huh?” Walker glanced down at Ashe, who quickly averted her eyes. “Why are we randomly talking about the holidays?”
“He doesn’t know.” Lola cheered, bouncing up and down in her hospital bed. “Go on and tell him. This is better than painkillers.”
“Lola, don’t be nasty,” Eden chastised her partner. Walker might have believed her sincerity if she’d even bothered to hide her smirk.
“I was shot. I’m allowed.” Lola poked her lip out again.
“Grazed,” Ashe muttered under her breath.
“Is that so?” The spy pushed herself up higher in her bed. “Spill the beans, chica, or I will.”
“Come on, Walker.” Ashe tugged him by the arm toward the door. “We just need a moment to—”
“Uh-uh, I got shot!” Lola pointed at Ashe, who tried to lead him away. “Correction, ‘grazed’ because of you, smarty pants. Do it in front of the class.”
Confused, Walker glanced around the room to see if he was the only one out of the loop. By the way Connor ducked his head and everyone else waited with expectant glee, he figured he was. “Nothing makes Lola this happy except for other people’s pain, and—”
“During Thanksgiving break I promised Eden we’d watch the kids for a week,” Ashe said in a rushed clip.
Shocked into silence, he couldn’t do anything but stare at her.
“It’s the least we can do after ruining their vacation.”
“But you have a babysitter, right? A nanny? I mean, what does Marta do?” Walker looked to Eden and Vann.
“After that hellish science fair presentation, she claims short-term disability every time they try to take leave,” Lola chimed in.
“Actually, it was the school assembly for student council. She was den mother at the time, and—” Vann began but stopped once Eden hit him. “Oh well, that’s a story for another time.” He rubbed the spot on his chest where she’d popped him.
“Thank you for this.” Lola pretended to fan away tears. “It was better than OxyContin. Please, everyone, give Boy Scout a round of applause.” She encouraged the room to clap.
The team put their hands together in Oscar-worthy praise of his agony. Walker promised himself that hell would freeze over before he ever worked with these jag-offs again.