Will & Patrick Meet the Mob (6 page)

“Not the last few days.”

“No pain or prickling sensations?”

“Yeah, but not any worse than before.”

“And they’re keeping you on the good drugs?”

“That’s what you tell them to give me, right?” Addison laughs, her eyes darting from Patrick to Will where he lingers near the entrance to the room, and then back again. “Hey, Will, what are you doing here?”

Of course she knows him. Patrick isn’t surprised. It’s Healing, and Addison is fifteen, close to Caitlin’s age, and for all Patrick knows Addison has been to sleepovers at the Patterson house.

“Hi, Addy. I’d heard you were in here.” Will steps a little closer, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Hospital stays suck, huh?”

“Yeah, they do. Why are you visiting me?”

“He’s not. Well, not really. He’s with me,” Patrick says, shrugging. “I’m letting him tag along today.”

“I heard you guys got married.”

“In Vegas. Love at first sight. You know the score.” Patrick examines the nurses’ notes on the white board across from her bed. Everything looks good and he agrees with the protocol listed for the day. 

Addison laughs. “You were so drunk, weren’t you?”

Patrick snorts and nods. Addison’s chart is in the cubby by the door, and he flips it open. He scans the new information scribbled over the last twenty-four hours. He nods to see they’ve assigned her care to Dr. Lerma for the time being. She’s a competent and not completely talentless surgeon.

“I knew it. Caitlin said you were both schnockered out of your minds.”

Patrick shrugs. “How’s that song go? Some say love is…yadda, whatever, something about a tender reed. But I say love is five Jack Daniels and the proof my shiny ring.” Patrick holds up his left hand.

“You’re so weird, Dr. McCloud.” Addison laughs. “I’m a teenager! You’re supposed to tell me drinking is wrong and stuff. Not how you found true love by getting drunk in a Vegas bar.”

“Who said anything about a bar?” Patrick asks, pulling his stethoscope out of his bag and listening to her heart. “I mean, we were in a bar. Obviously. That’s where grownups drink. In bars. But I didn’t
say
anything about a bar.”

Addison rolls her eyes.

“But now that you mention it, alcohol is a bad idea. For one thing, it’ll feed that brain tumor of yours and make my job even harder.”

“Speaking of your job,” she says, the smile falling from her face. “What’s going on? Dr. Knife told me Dr. Lerma is taking over my case for a little while? Why? You promised you could help me.”

Patrick sits facing her on the bed, his hip against her knee. “It’s dumb grownup stuff. Nothing to do with you.”

“But I want
you
to be my doctor.”

“I want that too. And you don’t need to worry. I’m going to be the one who does your operation, just like we discussed.” Addison’s smile comes back to her eyes and Patrick hates that what he says next is going to take it away again. “But it can’t be this week.”

“Why not? I’m ready. I’m so ready. I want to stop being scared that I’m going to die.”

Will makes a soft, comforting sound from where he stands several feet away.

“I’m ready too,” Patrick says. “But we can’t do it next week. That’s all I can say about it, unfortunately. But I wanted to tell you in person I haven’t abandoned you. We’re gonna get this thing out of your head.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. So chin up. Got it?”

Addison’s dark eyes glow and she puts her chin out, determined. “Got it.”

“Good.” He starts to stand but Addison grabs his hand.

“Wait. Tell me again everything’s going to be okay. I believe it when you say it, Dr. McCloud.”

“It’s going to be okay. You’re going to get out of here before your sixteenth birthday, just like I told you, and you’ll play in a million soccer games, and star in a hundred plays, and grow up to date dozens of devastatingly handsome men.”

“Yeah?” Addison laughs.

“Yeah. And you’ll call every year on your birthday to thank my voicemail for saving your life.”

Addison giggles. “Your voicemail?”

“Of course. I’ll be way too busy to take your calls.”

Addison cracks up, and he hears Will’s soft laugh from behind him. Patrick pats Addison’s leg. “I gotta go now. But stay brave and strong. We’ll do this surgery as soon as we can.”

“Deal,” Addison says, and her smile is huge.

Patrick walks past Will and slams right into a brunette nurse.

“Oh! Dr. McCloud! I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t you have eyes? Watch where you’re going.” Patrick moves on by her.

“It’s not you,” Will says in his wake. “He’s having a bad day. Well, a bad week really.”

Patrick’s mouth tugs up because, yeah, it’s been an awful week. But he and Will are both alive, and he can’t be kept away from his work forever. Missy Hammond’s claim is ridiculous. Maybe Will can ask if Eleanora has some strings she can pull. Or Will himself, in his position as “ultimate funding god” to the hospital, might be able to convince Don to circumvent the rules.

Patrick’s not above bribing someone so he can get back into his patients’ brains. This insane town will feel manageable again as soon as he can.

Besides, Addison Rowe needs him. He’s not going to let her down.

Will walks Patrick to their hotel room door, having escorted him all the way there despite Patrick’s protests that he is
not
a prisoner and doesn’t need his husband acting as a bodyguard.

“I’m gonna call your granny and get her to fix this Hammond problem, puddin’-pop. And, if she does, I’ll reward you with a spanking you’ll never forget,” Patrick says as he keys open the door.

Will’s heart skips a beat, and he’s tempted to forget about his appointments and head inside with Patrick. He might not get the spanking Patrick’s promising, but burying his face in Patrick’s pubes, smelling his musky scent, and filling his mouth with fat cock while Patrick greedily reciprocates is a distraction he desperately wishes he could indulge in right now.

But he’s only got five minutes before he’s supposed to meet his mother at Brown Gargle, and with Tony in town, he can’t afford not to show up.

“All right. Tell Nonna hello from me. And Patrick?”

“Mmm?” Patrick hangs up his coat and bends down to unlace his boots. His ass catches Will’s eye. He has to force himself to look away.

“Until I find out more information about my dad, stay here at the hotel, okay?”

Patrick’s low growl wraps around Will’s dick and tugs, but he stands firm. It’s for both their sakes that he has to meet his mother and figure out more about Tony’s sudden appearance.

“Fine, I’ll play prisoner. Pick up some rope on your way home, and you can tie me to the bed for authenticity.”

Will swallows thickly. “Okay. Or you could tie me down?”

Patrick’s grin is sharp and quick. “Whatever works.”

Shutting the door behind him and making his way to the elevator takes an extreme effort of self-discipline and Will congratulates himself for having the strength. 

Despite the food truck falafel Patrick made him eat on their walk back from Healing Regional, he feels a little woozy when he gets to the coffee shop, so he tests himself before ordering. Frowning to find he’s lower than he should be, a rush of irritation swells. This is Tony’s fault too. Tension and worry is eating through Will’s blood sugar too fast. He grits his teeth and wills himself not to get more upset.

His BG level is worrisome enough to warrant ordering a juice instead of coffee and a marshmallow rice krispie treat too. He takes a table in the back, away from the female barista. He’s almost done forcing it all down despite his wrung-out queasy feeling from the ups and downs of his blood sugar when his mother arrives.

“Juice? Another low?” Kimberly asks as she drops into the chair across from him, wearing a fitted leather coat and a new aquamarine pendant sparkling just above her exposed cleavage.

“I have an appointment with Dr. Anastasia tomorrow. Relax.”

She hangs her purse off the back of the chair and squirms out of her coat. Her blue silk shirt sets off her eyes. Will has always thought his mother was beautiful, but assumed that was because she’s his mom. Looking at her now, through fresh eyes and Patrick’s opinion, he can say that, yes, she’s really a gorgeous woman.

Kimberly runs her fingers through her blond hair and smiles at the girl who delivers her steaming coffee mug. “All right, obviously we need to talk.”

“Yeah, we do.” Will leans forward. “What were you thinking calling Tony into town?”

Kimberly’s white teeth sink into her lower lip and she looks away. “He told you that?”

Will collapses back in his seat and folds his arms over his chest. “No. And I wasn’t sure you had until just now.”

“You have to understand, I did it for your own good.”

“So this is about me? Not you?”

She flushes. “Your father and I are over.” She touches the aquamarine pendant. “I’m with Jason now.”

“Right. It’s more like you’re with Jason until the moment Dad shows up at your door and you wind up sleeping with him again.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Tell that to someone who believes you. Which, for the record, isn’t going to be any of your children. We’ve been through it too many times. We see the truth.”

“Is this going to be another episode of ‘Will tells Kimberly what a terrible mother she is?’ Because I am not going—”

“You called this meeting today. You’ll hear me out.”

Kimberly’s blue eyes snap with anger. She sips her coffee and considers, looking over her shoulder to see who else is in the shop. It’s empty except for the barista and a teenage couple canoodling on one of the side benches against the wall. She turns back to him. “Go on then. Tell me how awful I’ve been.”

“It’s not that you’re awful, it’s that I know you. Whatever excuse you used to call Tony—me, my marriage, whatever—the truth is, you called him into town because you like Jason and you’re happy with him.”

“That makes no sense!”

“Oh, but, it does, Mom. Things are going well, so you need to know if Tony can light you on fire and burn it all down. Getting your fix. Does Jason know his heart is expendable to you?”

“You never used to talk to me this way before
that man
.”

Will lifts his brows and says nothing.

“I called your father because I’m terrified for you, Will.” She leans forward and jabs her long nail against the wooden table top. “Since you won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to him.”

“About?”

“About this marriage!”

“Originally, we were all agreed that Tony is a loose canon and he can’t be trusted with the truth of our situation.” Will’s stomach tenses and he feels a little sick. “Did you tell him?”

Kimberly’s lips press into a thin line. “You need help, honey. And to help you, he had to know the truth.”

Will’s heart rate kicks up and a fine, sickly sweat breaks over him. “Mom, this is the Molinaro family we’re talking about here. Patrick’s life is at stake. My access to Molinaro funds could be revoked. Good works could be ruined. How could you do this?”

“Because he’s your father and he loves you, Will. I know we said at first that we’d keep him out of it. But that was when we thought Eleanora could handle it. Clearly she can’t. And now the danger to you has grown so much—”

“What danger to me? Tony is the danger!”

“The danger now that you’re sleeping with that man!”

“Oh my God, Mom. Are you serious right now?”

“Yes! It’s not safe.” Her cheeks flush. “
You’re
not safe with him. He’s untrustworthy. You know nothing about him or his past—”

“That’s not true.”

“He’s rude, and awful, and he doesn’t love you!”

“You’re lecturing me on love again?
You
?”

“Will, you have to listen to me. Getting your father involved was a last resort, and I understand you feel betrayed, but we both know Tony has more sway in the Molinaro family than Eleanora. He’s indispensable to them. His reputation is… Let’s just say he’s effective and efficient and the family is terrified of him. If anyone can procure a divorce for you without damage to Good Works, it’s Tony.”

“But Dad’s dangerous—not just to Patrick, but to all of us. More to the point: what makes you think he wants to help me? There’s nothing in it for him.”

“Of course he wants to help. He loves you.”

“He loves games. Why would he want me to keep Good Works? The last time he visited he went on about me coming to Minneapolis to join him in the life. Said it’d make a man of me.” Will scrubs at his face, sweating all over at the memory of that talk. “He sees Good Works as a barrier to me joining him. He’d be happy to cut off my access to the funds to try to make me dependent on him entirely.”

“You don’t know your father at all if you think he’d do that.”

“I know him well enough. So do you.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

Will leans forward and pokes his finger into the table. “But even if you’re right, what about Patrick? What if Dad hurts him?”

“It’s a risk, but I’m willing to take it.”

“You’re willing to risk a man’s life?”

“He won’t kill him, honey, and he’d never hurt
you
.”

“I don’t want him hurting Patrick!”

“Well…” she swallows hard. “If you ask Tony nicely not to—”

“Holy crap! You’re insane! You are completely insane! Everyone in my family is nuts.” Will throws up his hands. “Have you forgotten about Roger?”

“Sweetheart, Tony had nothing to do with Roger’s death. He was in Memphis at the time.” She sighs and pushes her hair off her forehead. “I never wanted you to know this since you admired Roger so much, but the truth is he was having an affair with that young, red-headed aerobics teacher at the Y.” She snarls up her lip like she has anything to feel betrayed about after her many, many infidelities with Tony. “The police told me video surveillance showed they had a tryst after hours that night. She left at ten-forty, and for some unknown reason, Roger went into the pool area, tripped over the pool-cleaning robot someone had left out and fell in. He couldn’t swim.” She presses her fingertips to her eyes, cheeks flushed and her voice cracking. “It was fast.”

“Sheriff Goombs told you this?”

She wipes her eyes with Will’s napkin. “Yes.”

He hates to be a conspiracy theorist, but obviously the sheriff can’t be trusted when it comes to Tony. “You know about Dad and Sheriff Goombs, don’t you?”

“Of course. That was forever ago.”

“And you don’t think she’s covering for him?”

“He was in Memphis, Will.” Her eyes sparkle with tears. “You might not believe this, but Tony liked Roger. In his way, he thought Roger was very good for me. Good for us.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“He didn’t want you growing up fatherless.”

“Then why didn’t Tony stay away from you?”

Kimberly’s eyes grow wetter and she wipes them with Will’s napkin again. Then she takes a steadying sip of her coffee, eyes on the table and a hot flush rising up her neck. “Has it occurred to you that I’ve never wanted Tony to stay away from me?” She looks up at him, tearful again. “You’re right. He’s my drug. And I can’t quit him for good. Are you happy now that I’ve admitted it?”

“No. Because whatever he is to you, it’s not an excuse for what you’ve put us kids through. And, in more immediate problems, you’ve still set up me and Patrick—with no warning—to have a made man in a crime family come after us.”

Kimberly’s lips twist with frustration. “I don’t know how to be more clear: Tony’s going to help you, honey.”

“I don’t need help!”

She shakes her head, leaning forward to rap the table with her fist. “But you do. You always have.”

They stare at each other, breathing heavily and heat rising to their cheeks.

Quietly, she asks, “What do you remember about the night you almost died?”

“Not a lot. It was a long time ago now.”

“Well, I remember every detail of that night like it was yesterday.” She takes hold of his hand. He almost pulls it away, but he endures her touch, rage churning in his stomach. “It was in slow motion,” she whispers, staring urgently into his eyes. “Finding you on the floor of your room. Calling the ambulance. Waiting while they took you back. When they escorted me into your hospital room, it smelled like death. Your death.”

Will’s so tired of this one long-ago night boxing him in. “I told you before, Mom, check me out. Not dead.”

“No, you’re not. But that night you might as well have been. No one was offering up much hope. I was out of my mind. You were unconscious, so maybe you don’t understand what I went through.
I
was the one who heard that fear in the nurses’ voices as they treated you. I’m the one who heard them say your blood had, and I quote, ‘the acidity of a battery.’”

“That’s not even possible.”

“I’m the one the doctor suggested go pray in the chapel.”

“Mom—”

“No, you listen to me, William Patterson.” She swallows hard and blinks back tears. “I know I haven’t been the best mother. I know I shouldn’t have relied on Ryan to make sure you were taking care of yourself, but it was the only way I knew how to cope with my fear for you.” She pushes a fallen strand of golden hair out of her eyes. “Your entire adolescence was a minefield of difficulties for our family.” She grips his fingers and squeezes hard. “Gay? Okay, we can deal with that. Diabetes? Fine. We can deal with that too. But then along came alcoholism and, honey, I didn’t know where to start.”

Will closes his eyes. Shame and guilt stir in him, waking up from their all-too-short nap.

“I didn’t know how to help you. The other day, you asked why always I took Ryan’s side. Well, it’s because Ryan always promised he’d look after you. He promised with his help, you’d stay sober, and I wanted—
needed
—to believe that.”

“So you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“So I could forget that night in the hospital!”

“Yes, and move on with your newest lover.”

“William!”

“Mom, I thought you were being honest with me?”