Page 78 of Dark Reunion

CHAPTER 29

MORRY

There was too much in her head to sit still, let alone relax.

She’d tried, but her bouncing knee had earned multiple glares from the strangers crammed into the connected seats. The smell of burnt coffee and antiseptic clawed at her nerves, and she’d already memorized every stain on the waiting room floor.

Trev sat at the far end of the room, calm and composed as ever, working away on his laptop like the sky wasn’t caving in. To her, it felt like the whole damn world was.

Both Jeremy and her son were under the knife for the transplant surgery. Hours had passed with no update. Dean was still trapped with his father, if he was even alive, and Maeve was missing. And on top of that pile of shit, her ex-husband had been a raging douche, trying to get her friends kicked out of the hospital because he didn’t like them.

This whole situation was a fuck sandwich—rage, fear, and emotional turmoil for the bread, meat, and condiments.

Morry turned to start another lap of pacing and spotted Andrew coming toward her with a coffee and a sandwich for himself and Lindsey, who wisely hung back. How that woman could still be with him after what he’d pulled, she had no clue.

Morry had forgiven Lindsey. She’d been a huge help in keeping Andrew at bay, and life was too damn short to keep bleeding from old wounds. But forgiveness didn’t erase the image of her best friend’s ass on the laptop, bent over while Andrew fucked her, right in her face. That kind of betrayal tattooed itself under the skin.

Andrew’s miserable glare met hers. She shook her head, disgust curling in her chest. Of course, he wouldn’t offer to get anyone else something. Typical.

He was closing in, but it was her father, the Colonel, who stepped into his path. Morry didn’t move, couldn’t hear what was said, but when her father finally stepped aside, Andrew looked like he’d seen a ghost. Pale and small. The Colonel gave her a subtle nod and crossed the room to sit beside Trev and her brother, Emmitt, once more.

Her father and Trev were cut from the same damn cloth. Serious, methodical, unflappable. Men who could command a room with a whisper. She envied that kind of control—especially now.

Andrew slunk off to the far corner, sulking instead of celebrating that his son had an army of people here praying for him. Some people were allergic to gratitude.

Trev was working for Morry now and had already managed to get her parental rights reinstated and secure a full fifty-fifty custody split. She owed him everything for that, and she knew it. Why she hadn’t called him sooner, she’d never understand.

The employee door opened, and Dr. Zittle stepped out. Twenty people shot to their feet like dominoes. Morry and Andrew rushed forward.

“How is he, Doctor?” Andrew blurted.

“Both are out of surgery and stable,” Zittle said. “They’re in recovery. I’ll let you know when you can visit. The next few days are crucial, and we’ll monitor Kyle closely for organ rejection, but I’m hopeful.”

Relief hit like a body blow. Morry threw her arms around the doctor. “Thank you. I can never repay you.”

Zittle gave a small, rare smile. Doctors may be the only ones more stoic than her father.

“Can I speak with you privately?” he asked.

Andrew huffed, offended, but she didn’t care. She followed Zittle into the hallway. He crossed his arms, and her pulse thudded in her ears.

“We have an issue with Jeremy.”

Her stomach dropped as every horrific possibility ran through her mind.

“Before we put him under, he made it clear he didn’t want any pain medications. I understand his history and respect his recovery, but I’m concerned. The pain will be intense, and I don’t want him risking cardiac stress, tearing of the surgical site, or any other complications.”

Shit.

She leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to her forehead. They’d talked about this, and he’d promised he would take the meds. When had he changed his mind?

“Okay,” she said after a beat. “I’ll talk to him when he wakes up.”

Zittle gave her shoulder a reassuring pat before heading back down the hall.

Shit.

An hour later, she was going back and forth between Kyle’s and Jeremy’s recovery bays. God forbid her boyfriend, a reformed addict who’d just saved their son’s life, be allowed in the same room. Andrew wouldn’t hear of it. Such a dick.