20. Chase

"I can't believeI'm stuck with you," I muttered under my breath as I walked into the hospital.

"I know. It's exciting, right?" Fox grinned. We headed for the locker rooms, acting like we belonged here. "It's been a minute since I was in the action."

"Yeah, but since you're not willing to use a gun, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be."

He shot me a strange look. "Like I could anyway. Didn't you read the sign? Guns aren't permitted on hospital premises."

"Like that's ever stopped you before."

"But I'm turning over a new leaf now," he continued smiling. "It's a beautiful day without a cloud in sight?—"

"What the fuck are you talking about? It rained the whole way here."

"Shh, you're totally killing my jam."

"Ooh, here," Fox said, slipping through a door.

I followed behind him, being slightly more cautious than he was. I couldn't be sure he wasn't just excited to walk around the hospital and check things out.

"Huh, not exactly how I pictured it. You know, the shows on TV make this look a lot more glamorous," he said, checking out the locker room.

"Yeah, if only hospitals operated like TV shows," I said sarcastically.

"You got that right. Anyway, let's grab some scrubs. I don't know about you, but I always wanted to play a doctor. What do you think my name should be?"

"One that matches a name tag?" I suggested.

"Right," he snapped his fingers at me. "But I was thinking of being the new guy on campus. You know, going for the friendly guy vibe. Everyone wants to check out the new guy."

"Which will make it harder for you to steal supplies," I pointed out.

"And that's why you're here, my friend. I'll keep them busy while you get what we need."

That worked out just fine for me. With any luck, I'd ditch him and get back to the safe house without having to deal with him. I quickly changed into a set of scrubs, then shot Fox a thumbs up as he waved wildly at me, then pointed at his own scrubs and did a little dance in the mirror.

Fuck, I really wished they hadn't brought him along.

I pushed the door open, trying to recall the layout of the hospital. Glancing up at the signs, I oriented myself and walked at a brisk pace, trying to mimic the doctor ahead of me. He pushed a door open to the right, but I continued on, panicked when I met a set of double doors that required a keycard to open.

"Follow me," a voice muttered, then walked ahead and swiped his keycard.

I didn't know who this guy was, but he obviously knew me or recognized that I was in trouble. Either way, I needed to find out why he was helping me in case my plan went to shit.

It wasn't until he walked into a patient room that I finally figured out who he was. The person in the bed was unconscious, but Asher kept up the pretense of checking on him.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, staying in the shadows of the room.

"Saving your ass."

"In what way?"

"There are medical supplies waiting for you in the room down the hall. I've been following you since Jones's place went up."

"And you're just now making yourself known?" I snapped. "Weren't you even a little worried that one of us might be dead?"

"You had a doctor with you," he said, continuing to pretend he was checking the computer. "If she couldn't help you, there wasn't much I could do. Once I saw you at the safe house, I knew you would need supplies. How's the head?"

I rubbed the throbbing in my temple and lied. "Good as new."

"You always were a shit liar," he chuckled.

"So, that's it? You came to get supplies for me?"

"Yeah, and then you showed up. Lucky for me, I didn't have to show my face to anyone."

"But you could," I argued. "I'm stuck with fucking Fox. I could use a little decent backup."

"Since when is Fox not good backup? He's a little crazy, but generally good in a fight."

"Since he decided he didn't want to kill anymore. How the fuck am I supposed to get out of a jam when my partner would rather talk shit out?"

He shrugged. "So, leave him behind. He'll hold a therapy session while you escape."

I chuckled, trying not to be pissed that he kept coming and going from my life. He stopped playing with the computer, then walked around to the other side of the patient's bed. He shook his head, wincing slightly.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Just a little run-in with someone."

I tensed as I watched his face pale slightly. "Asher, what the fuck is going on? Did you find out something?

He shot me a death glare, then moved swiftly to my side, pressing me against the wall. "You need to keep her hidden."

"Why? Tell me what you know!" I hissed. "I can't protect her like this."

"You can't protect her no matter what," he shook his head. "This thing is too fucking big. You're in too deep."

"Asher—"

"Take her and run," he growled. "Get out of the states and lay low."

"We were already out of the states. How the fuck did that help?" I snapped.

"Then you'd better find a hole to crawl into because if they find her, there's no fucking way you'll be able to save her."

Something nagged at the back of my brain, urging me to remember… "Is this about Rafe?"

He swung around and glared at me. "Don't ever fucking mention his name to me again."

"It is, isn't it? How is Mercy connected to him?"

"I didn't say she was."

"You didn't have to," I shot back. "Asher, if you were ever my friend…please, tell me what the fuck is going on."

"I'll handle it," he huffed, pushing away from me. "Better me than you."

There was that self-deprecating side that drove me up the fucking wall. He couldn't save Jade, so his life wasn't worth anything. It was absolute bullshit, but from where I was standing, I couldn't see how to change his mind.

He ran his hand through his hair, and that's when I saw it. Just a small scar, but it was enough to make anger course through my veins. I snatched his hand and turned it so his wrist was facing up. A thick line, much bigger than I thought, slashed up his wrist, running along the vein.

"What is this?" I asked quietly.

"Don't fucking worry about it."

"You tried again," I murmured. "And I wasn't there."

"Yeah, poor Chase," he laughed. "Not there to do his fucking job, right? But here's the thing…you can't save everyone. You have to choose. Who do you choose right now?"

My jaw clenched in anger as I stared at the man I once considered my best friend. In many ways, he still was, but time had passed and I no longer recognized him. He'd kicked me out of his life and flipped me off. There was no saving a man who didn't want to be saved.

But he was here helping me. That had to count for something. That had to mean he still cared about something other than the grief. "Come with me."

His gaze snapped up to meet mine and something in his eyes flickered to life. "I…I can't."

"You can. You just have to walk out that door with me."

He shook his head slowly. "It's a nice thought, but there's not room for more than one wounded soul."

"What are you talking about?"

He turned for the door, pulling it open. "You'll find everything you need in the janitor's closet at the end of the hall. I grabbed Mercy's medication," he said, slipping out the door.

"Asher!"

I raced after him, but when I yanked the door open and spilled out into the hall, he was already gone. Cursing under my breath, I walked down the hall, yanking open the janitor's closet. Sitting on the floor was a box filled with everything Mercy would need to help Nick. I hoisted it into my arms and backed out just as someone walked up behind me.

"What are you doing?"

"Shit," I muttered. I slowly turned, facing the orderly staring at me with accusing eyes.

"Who are you?" His eyes dropped to where my name tag should be. "Stay right where you are."

"You don't understand. I lost my badge."

He grabbed the box out of my hands, then started marching down the hall. I couldn't cause a fight right now, but I needed those fucking supplies.

"Wait!"

He turned and scowled at me. "I'm calling security."

"You don't understand," I said, walking over to him. "Just let me explain."

"You're stealing supplies."

I paused, trying to think of something to say. "Yes."

"That's—"

I slammed my fist into his face, wincing as he dropped to the ground. I didn't normally care about hitting anyone, but this guy was just doing his job. I grabbed his shirt and hauled his body into a room. "I'm really sorry about this," I murmured, walking out the door.

I grabbed the box and walked down the hall, ignoring the pages for security. I didn't know if that was about me or possibly Asher, but it was highly unlikely that no one saw what happened. I was just rounding the corner when Fox appeared, wide-eyed and sweating.

"We should go."

"You think?" I snapped. "What did you do?"

He rushed down the hall alongside me. "I…Nothing really. Okay, I attempted to heal someone with meditation. It didn't exactly work."

"I don't see how that's harmful."

"Well, he was in the ICU and I blockaded the doors. Two more minutes and it would have worked. But those assholes kept banging on the door. It totally fucked with my concentration."

"Yeah, that's the reason it didn't work," I muttered as we walked out the doors.

Mercy snatchedthe box out of my hands as soon as I walked through the safe house doors with Fox. While he recounted his story to everyone, I gravitated toward the silence of the kitchen, needing some time to sort my thoughts about Asher. He wanted space, and I was inclined to give it. But everything in my gut told me to let Patrick in on what I knew.

Asher wasn't healing. Far from it.

But he hadn't exactly told me where or when I could find him. In fact, he popped up whenever he wanted and left just as quickly.

It's a nice thought, but there's not room for more than one wounded soul.

What the fuck was he talking about? I wasn't a wounded soul. I made peace with the demons in my past. But that clearly wasn't the way Asher felt. Or maybe he was just trying to find another excuse to push me away. After everything we'd been through, I hoped I could still reach him. It had to be a good sign that he was stalking me. At least I could see with my own two eyes that he wasn't dying. But that would only last as long as he felt useful. Somehow, I had to find a way to drag him in without sedating him. That would only make him run for the hills.

"Oh my God," Patrick groaned. "How did you survive the trip to the hospital with him?" He slumped down in the kitchen chair and thunked his head on the table. "The man won't shut up. Mercy had to shut the door in his face so he didn't try to heal Nick with meditation."

"Where is he now?"

"Centering himself," Patrick said airily. "So, you had a bit of a run-in."

For a second, my mind flashed to Asher. "Uh…yeah."

His eyes narrowed on me and I knew I caught myself too late. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." I pushed away from the counter. "I was just trying to figure out who the hell is trying to kill us."

"I thought you said it was the guerrillas that attacked her?"

"That's what I assumed, and I was pretty damn sure of it."

"Until?" he asked, knowing there was more.

I sighed, wondering how much I should tell him. No, I couldn't tell him about Asher. It was out of the question. I was still trying to bring him around, and he explicitly asked me not to tell anyone. "What if this has nothing to do with the last job?"

"Then who do you suspect?"

I looked at him, staring him in the eyes. "Rafe."

He huffed out a laugh, then stopped when he saw I wasn't joking. "Seriously?"

I shrugged. "Why not?"

"Why—Chase, you have to have a reason for suspecting him."

I did, but I couldn't tell him. "Because he fucks with all our lives. Because this is just the kind of thing he would do. Because I could give you ten more reasons, none of which would actually tell us if he's behind this. Look, I'm just saying we need to consider it."

"You know Rafe isn't going to admit to anything. If he fucked with us, he's got a reason behind it—one that we'll most likely never know about."

"There's one way we could find out."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"We could call Cash."

He laughed at that. "Because Cash and his brother are so tight? Rafe doesn't tell Cash anything."

"No, but he's the only person who's likely to know anything. He fucked things up with Jack and Johnny. I doubt Jason is speaking to him."

"And that still doesn't mean we'll find anything out. I have no problem asking him, but I think it's a waste of time."

"Well, we can't just sit around here with our thumbs up our asses," I snapped.

His brows shot up. "I don't know about you, but my thumb is nowhere near my ass. However, now that you mention it, I wouldn't mind getting laid. Any chance I could slip out for a few hours?"

I glared at him.

"Geez, what happened to the guy who was all happy and shit with Mercy?"

"He's trying not to let anyone else get hurt," I grumbled.

"Well, tell the other guy to come back. I miss him."

I flipped him off just as Fox strolled into the room munching on what appeared to be a biscuit. "What are you eating?"

"Filipino healing cookies. It's made with arrowroot flour. It's supposed to have healing powers."

"So, why are you eating them?"

He looked at me funny. "To heal my soul."

I pointed to the door. "There's a man in the other room that needs healing."

"Oh, right, but he's not going to be eating anytime soon," Fox nodded. "So, I thought I'd test them out. You're actually supposed to stamp your coat of arms on the cookie, but I don't have one." He frowned, then looked up at me happily. "We should totally have an OPS coat of arms."

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "You should bring that up at the next meeting."

"I think I will. Good juju," he said, holding up the cookie. He stuffed the rest in his mouth, then went to the open space in the kitchen and stood in the center. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let out a low booming sound. Flinching, I couldn't look away without figuring out first what he was doing.

Fox kicked off his shoes and spread his legs until he was in a slight squat.

"Maybe he has to take a shit," Patrick said, leaning in to whisper.

"I'm guessing that's not what he's doing."

"I'm connecting with Mother Nature. When she's at odds with me, I can feel it in my core."

"Yeah? What does she say?" Patrick grinned.

"She tells me to find inner peace."

"What happened to centering yourself by killing someone?" I asked, not that I wanted him to go on a killing rampage, but seeing him like this was fucking weird.

"Killing was giving me a third eye."

I glanced at Patrick and mouthed third eye?

"Yeah, I'm out." He slapped the table and walked out, leaving me alone with Fox. I didn't want to be here any more than Patrick, so I got up and headed for the door.

"There's something blocking you," Fox said, still squatting with his eyes closed.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can feel it. Something is keeping you from getting the answers you seek."

I just stared at him. "Sure."

His eyes flew open and he resumed a normal stance. "I'm serious. Think what you will about my new methods for coping, but know this, there is something seriously fucked up with you. Before you can truly move on with Mercy, you need to find out what's fucking with your head."

He turned and walked out the back door without another word.