By the time I pull in a parking slot at the hospital, I have myself worked up into a nice head of steam. I pointedly ignore Tse parking two spots down from me and march right by, my eyes fixed on the door.
“I’m looking for Bernie Wilson?” I ask the woman manning the information desk. “He was brought in by ambulance maybe an hour or so ago?”
I try not to notice the looming presence of Tse closing in behind me as she scans her computer screen.
“I don’t have him listed here yet, but he’s probably still in the emergency department. Just follow the signs and check in with the desk.”
“Thank you.”
Behind me I hear her ask, “Can I help you?”
“I’m with her.”
The rumble of Tse’s voice has me clench my hands in fists, but I keep my tongue until I’m directed down a quiet hallway. There I swing around on him. I have to tilt my head back to look at him since he’s much closer than I expected. Somehow that takes a little of the wind out of my sails.
“Why are you following me?”
“Don’t think you should be alone.”
“That’s not your call to make,” I snap. “Maybe I want to be alone. Maybe I need to be alone, have you thought of that? No. You haven’t, because you assume you know better. I’m so sick of—”
I’m shocked silent when he suddenly grabs my upper arms and swings me around so my back is against the wall. I’m about to lay into him for manhandling me when an older gentleman with a walker slowly passes by, grinning as he winks at Tse. I press my lips together but a soft growl escapes, which Tse apparently finds amusing.
“Right,” he says, giving me a little shake, “before you give yourself an aneurism, have you stopped to consider that whoever knocked out the cook might not have been there for him? We don’t know that. We don’t know anything yet and until we do, I’m sticking close.”
All my indignant anger evaporates on the spot and I hate that he makes a good point.
“Sous-chef,” I mumble stupidly.
“Sorry?”
“Bernie is a sous-chef, not a cook.”
Tse drops his head back and looks up at the ceiling, as if asking for divine intervention.
“Did you hear anything else I said?” Exasperation is clear in his voice.
“I did,” I grudgingly admit, and his eyes come back to mine.
“Hell, Fee, it wasn’t that long ago I had to carry you bleeding into the clubhouse.”
“Don’t remind me.”
He hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my face to his.
“Then don’t give me a hard time for wanting to avoid another scenario like that…please.”
His plea is genuine and I find myself a little embarrassed. I’m throwing around attitude because I feel controlled and undermined, when in effect these guys—this guy in particular—is trying to keep me safe. Getting shot was probably the most terrifying experience of my life, but I clearly remember Tse scooping me up off the ground and running through gunfire to get me to safety. He even got winged by a bullet himself, but that didn’t stop him from getting me safely inside.
“Okay,” I promise contritely.
But a few minutes later, when we’re directed into the waiting room where we find Wapi, my resolve is quickly forgotten.
He shoots up from his seat and reaches for me, lifting a hand to my face.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Have you heard anything?”
“Not yet, I’m still—”
“You need to go,” Tse interrupts the younger man, who drops his hand like he got burned.
“Tse!” I snap. “You’re being an ass.”
“What? Ouray wants him back at the restaurant,” he says defensively.
“Oh, I give up.” I throw up my hands. “I’m sick and tired of this, you know? You’re putting me in the middle of something I didn’t ask for. I’m going to see if I can get some information, and you two…” I point a finger at each of them, “…can sort this shit out without me.”
Then I stalk out of the room and go in search of someone who looks like they belong.
A woman in surgical scrubs hands a file over to the nurse behind the desk and I zoom in on her.
“Excuse me? Could you tell me anything about Bernie Wilson? He was brought in—”
“Are you family?” she interrupts.
“No, but I’m his boss and I’m the one who found him. Police are still trying to locate any next of kin, but for now I’m all he has. Please?”
She gives me a long hard stare before her face softens.
“Very well. As you likely will have noticed, he had a large laceration to the back of his head. That was easy enough to fix. More serious is the skull fracture underneath, which is considered a significant head injury. He was able to answer a few basic questions when he first came in, but has been in and out of consciousness since. For now we wait and see; our first concern is possible swelling of the brain. Should that happen, we may need to relieve the pressure.”
“You mean surgery,” I conclude.
“Yes. That’s a possibility, but as I mentioned, we’ll monitor him closely.”
I hold out my hand.
“I appreciate it, Doctor…”
“Morozova. And your name is?”
“Sophia Vieira.”
“Okay, I’ll have you added to his file as contact for now.”
“Thank you.”
I’m halfway back to the waiting room when I bump into Detective Ramirez.
Tse
The moment Sophia leaves the room I turn to Wapi, but he speaks first.
“I care about her.”
I have to give it to him; he gets straight to the point.
“I know.”
“She sees me like a brother.”
I didn’t know that, so I keep my mouth shut and wait him out.
“Do you know how I know?” I’m not sure he’s expecting an answer and simply shrug. “I don’t get her fired up. Oh, she tolerates me, maybe even likes me, but I can’t get under her skin. Not like you do. It fucking sucks.”
His observation startles me. I never looked at it that way, but now that I think about it, almost every couple I
