jacket.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Gleason asked.
Luis stuttered a moment, trying to think how to answer without antagonizing the medical staff.
“I am Luis Alvarez. I work for Mr. Baba, and at his request, I am guarding this woman while she’s healing.”
Gleason glared at him. “He thinks she’s in danger from the people who are healing her?” he snapped.
“You’ll have to speak to Mr. Baba as to why I am here. I’m only doing what I was ordered to do,” Luis said.
Gleason gave the guard a disgusted look, then stormed past him with Powers, his “nurse,” right behind him, into Star’s room, making sure the door was firmly closed behind them.
Star was awake but clearly uncomfortable. Powers positioned himself at the door to keep watch, while Gleason approached Star’s bedside.
“Good morning, Star. How are you feeling today?” Gleason asked.
“Like all the skin has been flayed from my back. How are you?”
Gleason blinked. The rage in her voice was so subdued he almost missed it.
He flashed his badge, hoping that would reassure her they were there to help, but she slapped it away.
“Doctors don’t use nurses as guards at the door. I knew who you were. Where is my son?”
“He’s safe,” Gleason said.
“I’m sure you will understand when I say I don’t believe you. If Anton finds out the two people who died in that fire were Feds, I’m dead. You know that, right?”
Gleason nodded.
“That’s why we’re here. We’re ready to put you under protective custody and—”
“I don’t trust you. I can’t. You people already promised to help me once, and that cost me my son. You nearly got us both killed! You were supposed to protect us. Where the fuck was that damn chopper when we were getting shot at?”
Gleason understood her pain, her anger. This was his job, but it was her life they were talking about. Still, he tried to remain objective. “We got a late start to the pickup site. We deeply regret what happened. We weren’t aware you were in that kind of danger.”
“You lie. I heard Lacey calling you.”
Gleason bowed his head. Damn. That wouldn’t help her ability to trust them.
“Not in time. She didn’t call in time,” he said, lowering his voice. “Star, I’m sorry. We’re all sorry. But please keep your voice down—Anton’s man is still out there.”
Star took a breath, then looked Gleason in the eye angrily. “Where is my son? I want to see him. I have to know he’s okay or this conversation is over.”
Gleason pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.
“Okay. They’re getting him to the phone. We can FaceTime. You can see him...talk to him for yourself.”
Star’s heart almost burst with relief, tears rolling down her face as they waited. But she wouldn’t let herself believe until she saw him.
The phone rang, Gleason answered, and then he moved to the side of her bed and leaned over, holding his phone in front of her face so she wouldn’t have to move.
“There’s your boy. Talk to him, but keep it quiet. That guard outside can blow this whole thing wide open.”
When Star saw her baby, her breath caught in the back of her throat. He didn’t have a scratch on him, and he was chewing on a teething biscuit. It was one of his favorite snacks. The sight of him and the crumbs on his cheeks made her heart ache. Instead of weeping, she waved.
“Sammy? Hi, baby, it’s Mommy.”
The toddler’s eyes widened, and then he was slapping at the phone and saying “Mama” over and over.
“I love you, Sammy. We’ll be together soon,” she said and blew him a kiss.
He put a fat little hand on the phone, blocking her sight, but she knew he was trying to touch her.
Gleason ended the call and dropped the phone back in his pocket.
“Where is he?” Star demanded.
“Like I told you, he’s safe.”
“That’s not good enough. I want out of here. You have to get me out now,” she said.
“We’re working on it,” Gleason said. “Just trust us. We’ll get you out of here before Anton checks you out.”
“Why are you waiting? You don’t know him. If he wants me dead, it could happen anywhere...even here.”
“Just stay calm and trust us,” he said. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours. We need to get people in place so that if Baba tries to run after he knows we have you, he won’t get away. Do you want to have to go into witness protection for God knows how long while we try to find him? If he leaves the country, you could be hiding all your life. Do you want to chance that?”
Star groaned. “Oh, my God, this hell is never going to end.”
“Try not to be afraid. We’ll have someone undercover on the floor at all times, and we’ll be back before nightfall.”
“And I’ll get Sammy back when we leave?”
“As soon as we get you settled in a safe place, yes. You don’t want him in any danger, right?”
“He was born into danger,” Star said. “I need him with me.”
“Okay, yes...just rest and heal. We’ll be back, and soon,” Gleason promised.
He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile and nodded at Powers to follow him as he exited the room, glaring at the guard again for good measure as they left.
Star was relieved to know Sammy was safe. She’d been given a reprieve, of sorts, but she was impatient and deathly afraid of the timing. And her pain was getting worse, not better. When the nurse came in a few minutes later with her pain meds, Star closed her eyes and thought of her son as she drifted back to sleep.
* * *
Anton sent a text to Luis, asking if all was well with Star. Luis sent a quick text back saying she was in her room and had no visitors other than medical personnel. Anton nodded in satisfaction and sent back one more text.
Make sure she stays there.
The threat was implied, but Luis understood. His life was at stake if anything went wrong.
Now that Anton had Star back in his grasp, he began to send out feelers to all his snitches, trying to find where the police had taken his son. They likely had him in some kind of foster home at the moment while they tried to work out who his family was, and if that was the case, he’d get word soon. If he didn’t get Sammy back, there was no way to know what Star would do. Her mothering instinct was strong. As long as she was still alive but without her baby, she would try to destroy Anton. But if he got rid of her before he got his son back, Anton was sure he would never see Sammy again. Now that he’d publicly tied himself to Star, he would be the prime suspect if she died under suspicious circumstances.
He went to the bar, bypassing his usual shot of whiskey and picking up a bottle of Grey Goose instead, a nod to his Slavic roots. He poured himself a stiff drink and took it to his office, sat down to check the stock market, then moved to email, cruising through the messages as the vodka in the glass slowly disappeared.
He was getting up for a refill when his cell signaled a text. He frowned as he read the message—this was not the news he wanted to hear. His son was in federal custody, and the woman who’d found him in the desert was in the hospital on the same floor as Star, and under police protection.