“For what? What do you think? She asked it be sent up. Why don’t you go ask her,” Kiki replied in her bitchiest tone.
“Leave the cart downstairs. You can take the tray up,” the main replied.
“And you can fix my broken back. I’ll push it to the stairs and bring the cart back when I’m done. Now move,” Kiki said and with a shove of the cart, set off out of the kitchen.
She pushed the cart down a series of winding halls and after a few moments, she stopped. She pushed the curtains aside. “Come on,” she whispered.
She’d pushed the cart into a closet. She pulled off the jacket and put it and the wine decanter and glasses she’d set on top of the cart into the trash.
We then walked, as nonchalantly as possible, across the main foyer and back up to my and Jamie’s room. Jamie and Will were already waiting inside. Jamie and I shared a glance, both relieved the other was safe.
“It’s done,” Kiki said.
Then we waited.
“Maybe I should have brought the wine,” Kiki said. Moments later Buddie and Dusty arrived.
“No problems,” Buddie said. “It just made a hell of a noise coming down.”
“They came running, but no one spotted us,” Dusty added.
“But they will suspect us—you,” Buddie said to me.
“Yeah, but it was worth it. God knows how many others we just saved.”
“Maybe you should have just blown up the boat,” Dusty said.
“I’m not planning on swimming home,” Will told him.
Jamie and I exchanged a glance but said nothing. After more than an hour passed and we heard nothing, the others went back to their rooms and Jamie and I headed downstairs to check on Ian.
It was now dark out. They were awake and moving around. Their piercing eyes bore into me.
“Maybe we should have stayed back,” Jamie whispered.
“Doesn’t matter. They’d know where to find me.”
We found Ian sitting up in bed, the IV still attached to him.
“Ahh, here is the happy couple,” he said when we entered, startling both of us. Ian looked much better. His skin was looking less thin, his eyes less sunk in, the dark rings around them gone. “I thought you had forgotten me,” he added.
Jamie shook his head. “Never, little brother. How are you feeling?”
“They have been pumping me full of shit all day,” Ian said, looking down at the IV. “I don’t even know what all they got going into me, but I’m feeling good. Christ, Layla, what happened to your head? Rough sex?”
I had removed the bandage earlier, but the fresh stitches were still evident on my forehead. .
“Hey brother, no need for that kind of talk,” Jamie told Ian. Jamie looked as perplexed as I felt.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. They ever feed anyone around here?” Ian asked.
“Let me go see if I can get you something,” Jamie said and then left the room.
I sat down beside Ian and reached into my vest pocket where I had hidden the last piece of the chocolate bar Jamie had given me. I handed it to him.
Ian laughed sardonically but ate all the same. “Geez, Layla, you’re so generous,” he said.
“You saw the doctor today?”
“Yeah, they’ve got me on all kinds of meds. Rostov was just here. Creepy dude.”
I nodded.
“Hey Layla, when did you decide to go after Jamie? Before or after you spent all winter toying with me?”
“I never toyed with you. We are friends.”
“Be my friend but fuck my brother, that’s nice.”
“Almost as nice as you did me, right Ian?”
Ian looked down at his hands and played with the candy wrapper. “Yeah, you’re right about that,” he muttered.
Jamie returned. “They are bringing you dinner, brother,” he said and then spotted the chocolate wrapper. “You need anything else?” Jamie asked.
Ian looked piercingly at me. “I guess not,” he said bitterly.
Jamie picked up on the tone. “We’ll check back in later. Why don’t you get some rest,” he said. Jamie took my hand, and we made our way out of the room.
“Going back to your room, eh? Yeah, you two go ahead,” Ian called after us then laughed harshly.
I led Jamie outside, and we sat on a bench on the porch. The moon cast white light on the dark lake waves. The air was cool but smelled clean. The sweet scent of spring flowers and new growth perfumed the air. When you weren’t fighting for your life or performing demolition, the view was actually rather peaceful. Jamie was quiet. Only a few of the lanterns on the porch had been lit. In the shadow, I could see Jamie was upset.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shared your gift with him,” I said.
“No, no,” Jamie said, picking up my hand and kissing my fingers, “bless your kind heart. It’s just . . .”
“It’s not him talking, you know that, it’s the medications and the illness. He’s not himself.”
“I’m sorry he spoke to you like that.”
I had to laugh. “He has spoken much worse to me, believe me.”
“It’s not right.”