Page 71 of Feral King

I reach the billing department and speak to the woman there on the night shift. I tell her who I’m with and give her my information.

After a few moments, I’m headed back to the waiting area. Sam and Lyra are seated next to each other, both of them with worried eyes.

“Maybe we can do a payment plan for the first part,” Lyra says.

“Sweetie, the interest rates on those plans are outrageous. You can’t?—”

“I don’t care what the interest rate is. This is Dad we’re talking about.”

No sense in letting them worry any longer.

“It’s done,” I tell them as I approach.

Lyra lifts her gaze slowly, as if not quite sure what I just said.

“What’s done?”

“The payment. It’s been taken care of in full.”

Realization flashes in Lyra’s eyes. “Is that where you went? Julian. No.”

“Taken care of?” Sam asks, a confused expression on her face.

Bobby cocks his head, as if thinking this might be some kind of sick joke.

“Yes. I gave them my information, and all current billing is covered. Any future bills will be sent to me.”

Lyra rises slowly. “Julian, no,” she says again, her voice cracking at the edges. “I can’t let you?—”

“Lyra. This isn’t up for discussion. Your father needs surgery and he needs it tonight. The insurance company is stalling, and the only reason you’re even in this bind is because things that never should’ve happened motivated you to quit.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it.

“Lyra, let me do this. Please.”

The wordpleaseis what undoes her. The resistance fades, and she seems to realize there’s no good reason to fight against someone trying to help save her father’s life.

“Okay,” she whispers, tears forming in her eyes. “Okay.”

Sam is crying quietly, the tears of a woman who’s been bracing for the worst but is finally tasting relief. She grabs my hand with both of hers and squeezes. She doesn’t say thank you because she’s too choked up to speak, but she doesn’t have to. The squeeze and the look in her eyes says everything.

Bobby watches from his hospital bed.

“You work with her,” he says, his gaze directed on me.

“Yes, sir.”

“Uh-huh.” He adjusts his Saints cap. “Sam, I think I like this one better than the other one.”

Lyra makes a sound that’s half laugh, half sob.

Twenty minutes later, the surgical team wheels Bobby’s bed out of the waiting area and through the double doors to the operating room. Sam holds his hand until the last possiblesecond. Once Bobby is no longer visible, Lyra stands with her mother, arms around her shoulders, steady and strong.

She turns to me and smiles.

Nothing else needs to be said.

CHAPTER 26