4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Shay

"Can I get fries, Daddy?" Lucas asked, sliding onto the plastic covered booth of a little diner I had pulled into. Sinking gratefully in the seat across from him, I rubbed a hand over the right side of my face.

A smiling waitress stopped at our table, placing menus in front of us–a kids one for Lucas with a packet of crayons–and said she would be back with waters for us.

Squinting at the prices with my good eye–my left was still swollen but had opened a mere slit–I nodded at him. The prices were decent, and it was a step above the fast-food drive-thru food we had been surviving on the past week.

But we had finally made it. We were in Sweet Alps, and I would be able to rest soon. Hopefully. The trip had taken far longer than I had planned, and cost more than I had wanted to spend. The truck had a quarter of a tank of gas, and I had enough to cover dinner tonight, but not much else. Thankfully, my appetite had all but disappeared the last couple of days, but Lucas needed to eat.

Glancing out the large windows of the restaurant, the sun was sinking in the sky and night was starting to fall. I wasn't sure what time it was, so I asked our waitress when she returned with our drinks.

"About eight-thirty," she smiled, tugging out her order pad. "Are you ready to order?"

"Lucas, do you know what you want?" He was busy coloring the picture on the back of his menu, but he looked up at my inquiry.

"Chicken nuggets and fries?" He questioned, his blue eyes hopeful. The kid had eaten about a zillion chicken nuggets the last week, but I wasn't going to tell him no. It seemed to be his favorite food at the moment. I called it a small win. Hopefully these nuggets would be a step up from the fast food ones.

"We have awesome milkshakes," the waitress–Sandy, according to her nametag–gave me a once over. "Great for sore throats."

Before I could answer, I started coughing. Loud barks that ripped painfully from my throat, causing my bruised ribs to protest. My coughing had only gotten worse during the trip. Grabbing for my water glass, I took a sip, trying not to choke on it. Praying this wasn't going to be one of the coughing jags where I coughed so hard I nearly puked.

Finally, when it had ended and I was sure every eye in the diner was staring our way, Sandy gave me a sympathetic look. "Maybe some hot tea instead. Dairy isn't great for coughs like that."

"Can I have one, Daddy?" Lucas looked so hopeful I couldn't deny him. Had I maybe been indulging and spoiling him the last few days? Absolutely. Probably overcompensating for the shit show his little life had become in an instant, but I didn't care. Considering the circumstances, he had actually behaved really well. He deserved a treat.

"Sure, buddy," I wheezed, setting my water glass back down with a trembling hand.

"Anything for you, hun?" Sandy asked, pen poised over her pad.

Shaking my head, I rasped, "No, thank you. Just the tea, please."

I actually hated tea, but my dad had always sworn by it for a sore throat. Since my coughing made it feel like my throat was shredded, I figured it wouldn't hurt to drink some. I doubted I would be able to taste much of it anyway, but the heat would feel soothing, and might combat the chill I couldn't get rid of.

She promised to get our orders in and to be back with our tea and shake. Had Lucas told her what flavor? I'd been too busy coughing my lungs up to hear him.

Trying to take a deep breath, my lungs protested, and I feared my summer cold had turned into something a hell of a lot worse than just a normal cold. Two nights ago, I had finally had to admit defeat and a pressing need for sleep. I'd spent more money than I had wanted on a motel room for the night, but my body had been fighting against me.

My sleep had been restless, interrupted by long coughing jags, but at least I had been in a bed. The trip had been littered with nuisances and costs I hadn't been prepared to cover. The second day we had been on the road, we'd gotten a flat tire, having picked up a long nail from somewhere on the highway. The damn thing had gone right through the sidewall, and I knew there was no patching it. The spare had gotten us to a discount store where I'd been able to purchase a new tire. That had taken a huge chunk out of our money.

It had felt like everything in the universe was fighting against us making it to Sweet Alps. We'd made it though, even if it was much later in the day than I had planned. We were here. Now I just needed to find a way to contact Asher. There was no personal number listed for him in my internet searches, just a number to his medical practice here in town.

As it was Friday night, I figured they were closed until Monday morning. I was down to our last thirty bucks, before paying for dinner tonight. There was no way we'd be able to get another motel room until Monday. Not to mention, we were both almost out of clean clothes and would need to hit a laundromat. That was more money I couldn't afford to spend.

Sweet Alps had a small town feel to it, at least what I had seen driving down the main street. But it was still home to over seventy thousand residents, and I had no idea how to begin to find my brother until his office opened back up.

Sandy brought our drinks, and I sipped the tea, feeling the heat of it warm me. Lucas sucked on his shake, smiling wide around his straw when the chocolate ice cream hit his tongue.

"Not so much or you'll freeze your brain," I warned him, which got a giggle out of him. "You won't be laughing when your brain is frozen."

"Are we going to see Uncle Asher after dinner?" he asked, taking my advice and letting his shake sit for a few seconds.

Running a hand through my horribly mussed hair, I tried not to let my worry show on my face. If I couldn't find Asher, I didn't know what we would do the next few days. I didn't like the idea of sleeping in the truck, not with Lucas. We'd done that a couple of times, for a few hours when I'd needed to rest my eyes. But even with the doors locked, I'd never really rested. Too aware of our surroundings, Lucas's safety, and the fear that Edward had sent someone after us.

"Well, I'm not sure where he lives," I told him honestly. "I was planning for us to be here earlier, and I could call his work. But they're closed."

Lucas stared out the window next to our booth, watching the cars driving up and down the main street. His little nose scrunched up, something he did when he was thinking hard.

"Why don't we just ask at the hospital?"

Blinking hard at him, I was at a loss for words. Why the fuck hadn't I thought of that? Because my brain was definitely not braining right now. It felt foggy and full of cotton. A shiver raced through me, and I tried to pull my hoodie closer around my body. Logically I knew I should not be cold, and it likely meant I was running a fever. Something I had suspected for days. My eyes had that weird gritty feeling they got when I was sick, my joints ached, and I was either freezing cold or way too hot.

The only thing that had kept me going, kept me upright, was the fear racing through me that Edward would find us. Making sure to drive the speed limit and mind every and all traffic laws, because I feared Edward's father–or all his high-powered attorneys–would have a warrant out for me for kidnapping or some shit.

Even though I had claimed Alpha Law, I knew that would mean dick all to them. I almost hadn't believed my luck that day in the library, stumbling upon the old law when I'd been searching for ways to get away from Edward and break our mate bond. Along with finding out the medical ways there were to sever a mate bond, I had found the law that stated an alpha could take their children and leave their omega, for any reason. Omegas could fight it, but most lost. It would take a lot of money and really good lawyers to get a judge to side with an omega once an alpha had claimed Alpha Law.

Both of which the Clarks had in spades. But fight them I would, if it took my last breath. Which it might, because I sure didn't have any money. All I could do was hope that I had enough evidence against Edward that the law would remain on my side. Hopefully the fear of a scandal would be enough that they wouldn't fight me. There was nothing Edward's family hated more than even a whiff of a family scandal.

I couldn't–wouldn't–lose Lucas.

"He's a doctor, right?" Lucas took another sip of his shake, staring at me over the rim of the tall glass container. "Doctors are at hospitals, so wouldn't someone know him there?"

My son was a genius. Well, probably not, but he was working with more brain cells than I was at the moment. Another shiver raced across my too warm skin, and a wave of exhaustion pulled at me. I couldn't remember ever feeling so fucking tired, or having my body hurt as bad as it did right then. It was more than the beating from Edward. Every muscle, joint, and bone ached. Breathing was becoming harder and harder, even when I wasn't coughing. Each breath was now accompanied by a soft wheeze. I felt like absolute roadkill.

Nodding, I rasped, "Lucas, you are one smart boy."

He grinned, pleased with himself, then gave me a serious look. "Maybe they can give you some medicine there, Daddy. Or look at your ouchies."

Closing my eyes against my son's watchful gaze, I tried to stop the way my body shook.

Damn you, Edward. And damn me for ever thinking I loved you .

"I'm fine, buddy, I promise. My eye will look better in a day or two." At least I could see out of it again, even if it was still pretty swollen. The skin around it was a garish purple/black/green combo. More bruises had bloomed over the last several days. One on my right cheekbone, and along the underside of my jaw. The fingerprint bruises around my neck were now dark red, some black, in spots. Thankfully, my hoodie hid the worst of them. My left side was one large dark red and purple bruise over my ribcage. The knot on the side of my head had thankfully shrunk in size, but my head hadn't stopped its insistent pounding since we had left.

I was saved from telling any more lies by the delivery of Lucas's food, and busied myself getting ketchup on his plate and making sure his napkin was in his lap. What little I could smell of the food caused my stomach to flip, and I felt sweat break out across my skin beneath the warmth of my hoodie. It was a weird feeling being ice cold, but sweaty, at the same time, and I concentrated on trying not to heave.

Lucas ate with the gusto of a six-year-old, and I wished I had an appetite. The food, despite my iffy stomach, looked good and the diner was cute with its fifties-like atmosphere. We would need to come back when I was feeling better.

Sandy had given me a look when I had paid the bill and asked for directions to the hospital in town, but she hadn't commented. Just gave me my change with a smile and simple directions.

The main doors to the hospital were locked, with a sign saying to use the Emergency Room entrance after eight p.m., so that's where we found ourselves. There were only a few people sitting in the waiting room, a television playing softly from where it hung on the wall .

Approaching the check-in desk, I held Lucas's small hand in mine, my feet stumbling over themselves when a wave of dizziness took me by surprise. The person at the desk gave me a concerned, assessing look, before asking, "Can I help you?"

Blinking at her, I tried to get my eyes to focus. All the colors around me seemed dulled, a bit gray around the edges, and shapes undulated with odd movement.

Finally, I got my tongue to work. "I was wondering if you had contact information for Dr. Asher Pierce?"

She stared at me hard, then gave Lucas the same assessing look she had given me. "Dr. Pierce isn't on call tonight. If you need medical assistance, another doctor can look at you."

"No, we don't need medical help–"

The look she shot me told me loud and clear she thought I absolutely needed medical help. Ignoring her look, and the way my body suddenly felt the need to sit down, I tried to clarify, "I need to speak to Dr. Pierce."

"That isn't possible. As I said, Dr. Pierce is not on call tonight."

"Please, I just need someone to call him." Reaching out for something to steady me, I grabbed onto the desk, dropping Lucas's hand. My legs felt weird, weak and wobbly, and sitting down seemed like something I was going to need to do very soon.

A coughing fit took me by surprise, and I couldn't catch my breath. The force of it bent me double, my ribs screaming, and I felt myself falling forward. Losing my grip on the desk, my knees hit the hard linoleum, my hands slapping the cold floor painfully.

Coughing so hard I gagged, I prayed I wasn't going to puke up the tea I had drank earlier.

"Daddy! "

Lucas's cry seemed to come from inside a wind tunnel, and I finally lost the fight I had been waging with my body. The grayness around my vision turned to dancing spots, then complete darkness.