Page 52 of Ambrose (The Theriot Family 5)
I was feeling especially generous toward hospitals when I went in for an appointment and was told by the doctors that my leg was healing faster than expected. It had been nearly six weeks since my high-speed plummet off a bridge. Ever since Frankie had moved into our apartment, he and Newt had dedicated themselves to my recovery. They had nothing else to do, trapped inside under the guise of “protection” just as I was.
Gabe kept Newt, Frankie, and me on strict lockdown. We hadn’t even been allowed to step foot outside the apartment in three weeks.
I could almost understand his protective attitude toward myself and Newt. After all, there had been direct attempts on our lives. Gabe’s strict regulation of Frankie, however, was more of a mystery. Yes, the man was possibly in danger because of his association with us, but so was Damien. Yet my brother retained some freedom of movement and was still helping the FBI investigate the possible connection between the pedophile ring and David Russo, the Mafia Boss who had killed our parents.
Every time I watched Damien step out the door while I was stuck inside, I felt a little more useless. I was also climbing the walls with claustrophobia. Movies, video games, and physical therapy could only occupy so much of my time, and still left many hours of the day free to wallow in self-pity.
Several times, I’d had to stop myself from snapping at Newt and Frankie and telling them not to coddle me. That wouldn’t be fair when they were only trying to help me.
Their efforts were definitely paying off.
After only six weeks, the doctors declared the crack in my femur healed and swapped out my full leg cast for a sturdy boot that only reached to my knee. The broken bones in my lower leg still needed some time to heal, but the boot provided enough support to let me walk without the damn crutch.
When I returned to the front lobby where Newt and Gabe waited, I held out my arms to show off my hands-free standing capability.
“Looks like you and Frankie know what you’re doing, Newt. Even the doctors were surprised by how well my leg has healed. In a few weeks, I’ll even be able to get this boot off, and then I’ll be completely back on my feet again.”
Slipping under my arms, Newt wrapped his arms around my waist in a tight hug. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
Gabe tucked a small book into his inner jacket pocket, which he had apparently been reading while he and Newt waited for me.
“Great. You’re done. Now, let’s get back. You’re too vulnerable here.”
We were at the same hospital where Newt worked. I’d expected he would want to stop in and say hello to his co-workers, or at least check with his bosses that he still had a job despite taking off for a month and a half with no warning.
However, there was apparently no time for socializing as Gabe herded us out of the building and directly into his personal car.
People under the FBI’s protection did not walk anywhere or take public transport. No, we got chauffeured like a pair of spoiled celebrities.
Damien and Frankie waited for us at the front door of our building when we pulled up.
“So, how’d it go?” Damien asked as he held the door open for me.
I gestured down at my leg. “Not fully recovered yet, but a hell of a lot better.” I turned to Frankie. “I haven’t really thanked you or Newt. The two of you have put a lot of effort into helping me recover. I know I haven’t been the best patient, but I am grateful.”
Frankie grinned and lightly punched my shoulder. “Remember that gratitude when I send you my bill. Private therapy like this doesn’t come cheap.”
Before I could reply, Gabe stepped between us. “Why are you down here? Don’t stand in the open door. You’re an easy target.”
Heaving a sigh, Frankie rolled his eyes and gave me a pathetic look. “Sometimes, I think he forgets which one of us the mafia is actually after.”
Gabe said nothing, but his glare spoke volumes.
“All right. All right.” Frankie threw his hands up in defeat. “I’m going back inside. Damn. You’re worse than my mother, and she wouldn’t let me spend the night at a friend’s house until I was sixteen.”
Once everyone was safely back inside and gathered in our office on the first floor, I finally noticed the addition to our group.
“Agent Adder. Why are you here? Do you have any new information?”
The man placed a protective hand on his briefcase, which sat on my desk. He, and the other agents that occasionally stopped by to check in with Gabe, had been getting more use out of my desk than I had over the last few weeks. Even the office barely felt like mine anymore.
“I might have something,” he said as he tapped the briefcase’s latch without opening it. “But I’m not sure.”
I waited for him to continue, but the man silently looked toward Gabe and Damien, like he was waiting for instructions.
“What? Not gonna tell us?” I looked over at my brother and Gabe, and it clicked. “Oh, you’re just not gonna tell me. What? You think I’m some sort of liability. This was my case to begin with and now you’re trying to freeze me out.”
Agent Adder had apparently gotten so used to me hobbling around on crutches that he was startled when I took a threatening step toward him.