Page 89 of Tied Over

“And I want a cat. It’s mean to have a dog with our shitty hours, but a cat is good because they like their alone time.”

“A cat sounds good.”

“Okay,” he said, exhaling deeply. “We’re good.”

And we really were.

TEN

As soon as we landed, after thanking our hosts profusely, Bodhi and I went to long-term parking and got into Bodhi’s Army-green 1989 Toyota Land Cruiser FJ62. He’d owned it as long as I’d known him and now, since I didn’t have my own car, I would have something to park in the garage that my house sat over. I called Kage, even though it was nearly five in the morning. He, of course, was at the office but directed us to go to the hospital where Ian was, Northwestern Memorial, and so we drove there.

Normally, visiting hours did not start so early, but Ian Doyle was a deputy US marshal, so there were extenuating circumstances. Plus, Ian had a big private room, so they could herd all of us in there and close the door. And really, when all was said and done, the hospital simply could not tell the chief deputy no. I couldn’t imagine anyone ever saying that word to Kage.

When we walked in, I was met by Ian’s wide grin. “Who knew fuckin’ Teddy-Bu was gonna be something I’d need to save my life?”

I walked over to the bed, bent and put my good arm around him.

He hugged me back with more strength than I thought he’d have. “You look like hammered shit, Jed.”

“I was in a different time zone, you’ll remember.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he said, hugging Bodhi when he leaned in after me.

Ian looked pretty good. Tired but good. There were bandages, but his coloring was healthy and his smile was all him, mischievous and wild. “You hopped up on the good drugs?”

Instant scowl. “Absolutely not. You have to feel some pain so you know when you’re healing, am I right?”

“What is that, some scary-ass Green Beret shit?” Bodhi teased him.

He shook his head. “In the field, you get sewn up and you go on. Hospitals, man, who has the time?”

I didn’t say anything, and neither did Bodhi. We’d both seen his bare back a few times when we played basketball, football, or racquetball, and the scars there, from what appeared to have been a flogging, along with various other marks all over him, spoke to hard living. I suspected his brothers-in-arms looked much the same.

“Listen, just take it easy, all right?” I ordered him.

He grunted, but clearly, he wasn’t about to get up and walk out of there. I was thinking our boss had something to do with that.

“Has Kage been here to see you?” I asked Ian.

“Yeah. He had to go back to the office to meet with Calhoun and the guys from Homeland.”

“Who’s watching his house now?” I asked, since Dorsey and Ryan were there, sitting in the room.

“My buddy George Hunt. He’s his daughter’s bodyguard.”

“Is he really a black-ops sniper?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? I mean, I saw him that one time in their house back in, like, 2021. He was there with you, remember?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah.”

“So that was him?”

Ian made a noise of agreement.

“He looked beat to shit that night.”