I huff deeply, letting my frustration out. Jake isn’t going to just drop this. It leaves me with two choices: lie or be honest. I chose door number two, because while I sometimes keep things from Jake, he doesn’t deserve outright deceit.
I spill out my early hours’ adventure, rethinking my choice of honesty as he sits back on the bed, his fury a slow-building thunderstorm.
There’s silence for a tense moment when I finish speaking.
“You committed a felony,” he says in a soft voice. I’m not fooled by the tone. His anger is a barely leashed lion. “And you used my car to do it.”
My lips press into a thin line. I hadn’t thought that particular implication through, and now I’m angry at myself. “I’m sorry.”
His expression narrows to one of vengeful retribution. “Oh, you’ll be sorry.”
“I will?”
“When I paddle your ass.”
“Jake—”
“Shut it,” he growls, his voice rising. “You broke into a detective’s house. You stole her property. You—”
“Casey’s property,” I mutter.
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m explaining your stupidity to you.”
That gets my back up. “Stupidity? I parked down the street. I had that lock picked in three minutes.” It was actually over five, but if there’s ever a time for exaggeration … “I was in and out of that house, with the file, in under eight minutes.” It was really ten minutes, maybe a bit more. “I left that room exactly as I found it. And I didn’t get caught.”
“Yes you did,” Jake corrects. “By me.”
“Rookie mistake,” I mumble under my breath, because I seem to have made a few of those. Perhaps I still have a little left to learn.
Disappointment darkens his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were going to do?”
“So you could stop me?”
Jake shakes his head, mirthless laughter escaping his lips. “If I’ve learned one thing, there’s no stopping you from doing anything once you have a mind to do it. At the least, I would’ve gone with you.”
“You would’ve …” I trail off.
He holds out a hand, palm up. “Let’s go.”
I take it. “Go?”
“To deliver the file to Casey at the hospital,” Jake explains, leading me off the bed. “The sooner he has it, the better right?”
My thoughts exactly, but it turns out that talking about delivering the file and actually doing it are two different things. Deciding not to waste time getting changed, we drive to the hospital, Jake’s jaw grinding over the numerous times he has to adjust his seat to get it right.
When we arrive, Jake peels off toward the cafeteria to get coffee, and I go in the other direction, cradling the report—now placed inside an A4 sized yellow envelope—in my right arm.
“Excuse me,” booms the voice of hellfire itself.
I pretend not to hear and quicken my pace along the corridor of Casey’s ward. Houlihan is bearing down. The nurse runs her ward like a prison. Getting inside a patient’s room involves triplicate forms, the third degree, and potentially a pack of cigarettes as a bribe, if I had the nerve to try. I don’t. She’d probably crush them in her meaty fist.
“You there!” she booms, her voice closing in.
I begin to jog, turning to see where she’s situated. My glance encounters no one. Turning back around, I find Houlihan standing right in front of me. I come to an abrupt halt before smacking into her.
“He’s resting,” she growls.
I wave the envelope, my evidence, and force a polite smile. “I just need to deliver this.”
“This is not a mailroom. It’s a hospital. Take your envelope and deliver it during visitation hours.”
Okay, now she’s beginning to piss me off. I tried nice, even when she came out swinging. All gloves are off now. “Step aside,” I command, my eyes narrowing. “This matter is urgent.”
“I don’t care if your matter is from the Prime Minister himself. You can wait until visiting hours or I can call security.”
“And visiting hours are when?”
Her lips purse. “Ten through to twelve and two ‘til four.”
I glance at my watch. The display shows 9:55am. Is Houlihan kidding me? When I look back up, her squiggly eyebrows have snapped together and are focused on a man in scrubs entering her nurse’s station. According to his tags and the stethoscope around his neck, he’s clearly a doctor. Apparently even those lofty credentials aren’t going to save him from breaching her domain.
“Goddammit,” she mutters in her gravelly tone. “Don’t move.”
Houlihan marches toward the intruder and with her back turned, I grab the handle of the door she was guarding and bolt inside, forgetting my plan to slip the envelope underneath it. Hell, I forgot about the damn envelope itself after that altercation.
Casey is fully dressed and standing by his bed.
“Christ you were right, Casey,” I mutter, rolling the tension from my neck. “Houlihan is hardcore.”
Then my gaze takes in the entire private room. Jared and Travis are standing by the other side of the door, and here I am waving the evidence of my thievery in their faces. I tuck it quickly behind my back. It’s not my smoothest move. I’m beginning to realise that stealing the file had been the easy part. Actually getting it to Casey is the part requiring finesse, and I’m failing miserably. It doesn’t help that they always think the worst when it comes to me.
Casey narrows his eyes. “What’s that?”
“What … this?” I bring the envelope back out looking at it as though it miraculously just appeared in my hand.
“Yes. That.”
“I’m not sure,” I tell him, widening my eyes in an attempt to portray a baffled expression. “I found it on the floor outside your room just now.”
“Jared,” Casey says, not taking his gazing from mine. “Was that envelope on the floor outside when you walked in five minutes ago?”
I look everywhere but at any of them, knowing I’m about to get caught.
“No,” Jared growls.
Tension crackles in the room.
“Well, fun chat,” I tell them in a casual tone, knowing it’s best to leave now rather than die for my efforts. I can’t imagine there ever being a good time to deliver stolen goods, but here and now, with my brothers in attendance, is clearly the worst time in the history of the world. “But I’ve got shit to do.”
I turn.
Jared bars the door.
“Out of my way,” I bark, panic clawing its way up my throat.
Travis snatches the envelope from my hand and gives it to Casey. Shit. I turn back to Jared. “Move, asshead!” I boom.
But he doesn’t budge. There’s nothing I can do, so I stand back and watch hell break loose before my very eyes.
It starts with Casey checking the contents of the envelope. He flicks through the papers, his hands beginning to shake. “Mac,” he breathes. “How did you …”
Travis eyeballs the report and visibly jerks. When Jared asks what it is and Casey tells him, they turn and look at me, all three taking in my uncharacteristic outfit with dawning comprehension.
What ensues is a lot of yelling, bulging veins, and sweeping arm gestures.