Page 61 of A Little Bit Engaged
But it wasn’t easy.
Having her with him, however, was. The bond from their childhood—the one he’d left untended and ignored these past three years—had never been as strong and solid as it was now. For that, he would be ever grateful, despite the other stuff they’d been through over the past week. But whatever else got in their way or went wrong, he wasn’t worried. They would work together to come up with a solution. The way they had to prepare for today’s visit.
No drama or hissy fits.
Like the ones Caitlin threw in private when she wasn’t pretending to be the betrayed and heartbroken ex-girlfriend in front of the press.
Staring at Cara, a buzz of awareness flowed through him. That costume really did make the most of her, um, figure. “Ready for this?”
“Yes.” She patted her bag. “I’m so excited to be here.”
“Good.” The happiness radiating off her pleased him. “We’re free from our jail.”
“Yes, but this is about helping a kid feel better. Nothing else.”
The sincerity in her tone removed the tension from his shoulders. He didn’t know what Cara carried in her large fabric tote bag, but she—like Jackson—was prepared for anything. She’d been sending Rizzo, Lex, and Kai on errands to get everything they needed. Brody appreciated her help, but he was most grateful she’d agreed to dress up and come with him as a character and for moral support.
“Everything will turn out okay.” He said that to everyone, though the words were mainly for her.
Jackson scoffed. “You’ve been out of sight while Caitlin gives multiple daily interviews about being broken-hearted as you and Cara make wedding plans. After which, Caitlin is telling people to go see her new movie to make her feel better. Now you’re in a public place with zero control over who might see you.”
“If threats hadn’t been made, we’d be out in public like Caitlin,” Brody countered.
“But they were made and continue to be posted online. Not to mention the smoothie incident that should have never happened under our watch.” Jackson’s nostrils flared. “This publicity stunt of yours will make things worse.”
Brody balled his hands. “This isn’t a stunt. We’re visiting a sick kid who wants to meet the characters from his favorite movie. No one—not you, Caitlin, or the press—will stop me from doing this.”
A muscle pulsed in Jackson’s jaw.
“If something goes wrong, I trust you and your team to take care of Cara,” Brody added.
Jackson nodded once, but the tension in the air remained, as thick as the fog that rolled off the bay and coated the city.
Two nurses in scrubs passed them at a brisk pace. A smiling orderly pushed a kid in a wheelchair. A noise sounded from a speaker somewhere.
“Okay, guys. Smile. No egos need to be involved. This is for Slayter.” Cara’s cheery voice sounded like a librarian about to read to children during story time, but the green wig and pink-painted face looked sexy on her. She focused her attention on him. “Ready?”
He adjusted the holster that held a beat-up laser gun. He imagined his alter ego, El, aka Eleon, a space cowboy, the defender of the downtrodden, and the leader of a ragtag fugitive group. “Let’s do this.”
“This is going to cost you extra.” Lex wore an eye patch, black leather pants, and a red jacket. He was playing Phemus, a hard-living assassin and rogue. His real tattoos worked perfectly for the part. “Just sayin’.”
That made Brody laugh.
“Before you go into Slayter’s room, you’ll need face masks and gloves.” The hospital administrator, a woman named Susan, passed them out. “He tires easily, but even a few minutes visiting with you will be a dream come true for him.”
Brody wanted more than a few minutes. He put on his face mask, and then he pulled on the gloves. “It’s showtime.”
With an exaggerated swagger, he entered the room. A worried-looking woman with messy blond hair leaned against the far wall by the window. A doctor in a white lab coat stood next to the bed where a boy lay connected to machines that beeped and buzzed.
Whipping out his laser gun, Brody scanned the room. “I hear there’s a smuggler named Slayter hiding in here. Big bounty on his head. Anybody see him?”
Eyes wide and mouth gaping, the thin boy in the bed sat upright. “Eleon!”
The awe in the kid’s voice tugged on Brody’s heart. He took a step toward the bed. “Yeah, I’m El.” He waved his laser gun. “Who wants to know?”
The boy raised his chin. “I’m Slayter.”
“Lyra. Phemus,” Brody called. “We found him.”
