Chapter Twenty-Four

JACK

I’ve never been hospitalized before and never want to be again. The nurses come in to administer pain medication like they’re doing me the biggest favor and that I should be happy. I can’t stay awake, and the fact that different people are in my room every time I open my eyes and that I never know what time it is is pissing me off. I can’t be groggy while someone’s trying to kill me. And Liv and Sam are scouting around. If something happens to them—

“Oh just deal with it,” Nancy says when I try to convince her to talk to the doctors on my behalf. “They’re taking away the pain, so let them. Stop trying to be in control all the time and just focus on healing. You’re lucky you didn’t end up with a concussion. I’m going to run home for a bit. Want me to bring you back anything?”

“My laptop.”

She shakes her head. “You’d never sleep, then. We’ll take care of everything, okay?” Nancy’s lips press lightly against my forehead. She’s never kissed me before, so it feels weird. “Hit your call button if you need the nurse.”

As soon as she leaves, one of the doctors comes in, followed by a group of interns. One of them—the blond one—catches my eye, shocking me so much my body jerks. The pain responds accordingly, but no one seems to notice. Even if it weren’t for the fact that he resembles me so closely, I’ve seen enough pictures of my half brother to recognize him immediately. The doctor examines my side and talks to the interns, but there is no flicker of recognition in Jeremy’s eyes as he looks at me. He’s not wondering who this guy is who looks so much like him. I’m just another patient. I start to laugh—what are the chances we would’ve ended up in the same room together? The laughter makes my side hurt so badly that I groan. Only one of the interns, not Jeremy, looks at me. Everyone else is tuned out.

Two minutes later, Jeremy’s moved on with the group to another patient’s room, and my chance to say something has walked out with him. What now? Obviously, the two of us being in the same hospital at the same time is too big of a coincidence to blow off. I make a promise to myself to find him later and confront him about our father. He deserves to know the truth, for his sake.

I ignore the twitch of guilt inside—it’s for my sake, too.

I call Jim Rush again, this time getting through. Although he expresses concern that I’m in the hospital, he doesn’t say anything other than he’ll look into Frank. Says he’ll need evidence, since the guy has no record. I can’t be too mad. Staying off the grid is something the Monroe Street kids were trained to do, and now it’s coming back to kick me in the ass.

As soon as I hang up with him, a text from Liv pings my phone.

PI thinks Frank Jones is the stalker and is going after him. We are still investigating. My mouth drops at the smiling emoji in her message. Like this is just a fun afternoon game she and Sam are playing. I have no chance to respond before a soft knock sounds at the door. Maggie walks in, tears running down her cheeks as she looks at me in the bed. Great. Just what I need. She mouths an Oh my God.

“I know you were here before, so don’t look so surprised,” I tell her. I reach over to grab my cup of water and wince at the responding jab in my ribs.

“Are you okay?” she asks, coming quickly to my side. “Can I get you anything?” She tries to take my hand, but I pretend I need both hands to hold the cup. Another nurse hovering in the form of Maggie is not what I need.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t need to stay.” I realize when Maggie’s forehead scrunches how that sounded. “Sorry. Rudeness is a side effect of whatever drug they’re giving me,” I tell her, motioning to the IV drip.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” she says, her eyes glassy again.

“Why? Did you do it?”

“Of course not! I would never hurt you!”

“I know.” I close my eyes, this time hoping Maggie gets the picture and leaves me to sleep. She doesn’t say anything for a while, and when I pop an eye open, she’s lifting up my sheet and staring at my ribs like I have a hole in them. I tug the sheet from her hands. “I’ll be okay, you know.”

“Do you think whoever did it is the same person who stole from the house?” she asks, moving my phone to the side table so she can sit next to me on the bed.

“Probably.”

“I wonder…” Maggie puckers her bottom lip with her fingers, her eyes fixed on the IV drip.

“Wonder what?”

“Well, you said someone’s been giving your…um…Liv gifts, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And sending her roses and acting all like a stalker? Well, maybe he’s someone who’d be mad at you because she likes you.” She blushes as I stare at her. “Never mind, it’s probably a stupid idea.”

“I’m sure it’s not stupid. Go on.”

“Maybe it was an ex-boyfriend of hers. Or at least someone on her side who could have a motive. Something against her.”

There’s no ex-boyfriend as far as I know. The only one who could possibly have an obsession with Liv is that shitty excuse for a foster father Derrick Carter. It’d be a long shot, though. The guy has no record other than the one Liv and I slapped him with after he attacked her. And he wouldn’t have access to my bank account or anyone else’s at Briarcreek. Still, I’m glad to see Maggie’s at least motivated to do something other than sitting around the house acting sorry for herself.

“It’s possible,” I tell her. “Good idea, actually.”

She smiles then, the lines in her forehead relaxing. I return the smile. Maybe we haven’t lost Maggie after all.

“So do you want me to follow up on that?”

Whoa. “No. I’ll take care of it.” I jerk up too fast, groaning as the pain cuts me in half.

She shakes her head, pressing me back with a gentle hand. “With a broken rib? Don’t think so. You stay here and get better.” She kisses me on the forehead—as motherly as Nancy, weirdly.

“Hold up,” I say as she turns to leave. “What are you going to do?”

She smiles, and the steel of her smile scares me. “I’m going to take care of you.” Her voice is light, as if she’s talking about going downstairs to get ice cream.

“Wait, come back!”

She ignores my calls and leaves me chained by my injuries to the bed. Great. I text as many people as I can to keep an eye out for her. Maggie going rogue is not what we need right now.

The nurse comes in then. “The young lady who was just here advised me that you’re in a lot of pain, young man.” She’s all smiles as she checks my IV drip, ignoring me as I tell her I’m fine. “It’s about time for your medicine anyway,” she says, looking at the chart.

“I don’t want any medicine,” I tell her, which she ignores as she changes out the bag.

It’s not long before I drift into sleep again, finding Maggie in the dreamworld, standing over Frank. “I’m taking care of you,” she whispers as she holds up the knife. “Always have, always will.”