Brainy and the Beast (14 page)

“Stop talking, Dad.” I helped him slide into his jacket. “And Henry’s not a doctor; he’s a genius. Well, he is kind of a doctor,” I corrected myself. “Just not a medical one. He does something over at Renton.” I motioned to Grant. “Open the door, will you?”

Grant raced ahead to open the kitchen and car doors. He hovered as Henry and I eased my dad into the front seat of the Volvo. “Can I come, Uncle Nick?”

I paused with my door open, realizing I shouldn’t leave Grant home alone. And what the heck was I going to do with Henry? “Yeah. Get in.” I shut the car door. “Doc. If you’ll ride with us to the hospital, you can take my car home. I can pick it up tomorrow.”

Henry was already walking to the passenger seat behind me. “Don’t worry about me, Nicholas. Just get your father to the hospital now.”

I started the car and shoved it into gear. Wrenching around, I met Grant’s gaze as I backed away from the house. “It’s okay, Grant. Grandpa’s going to be okay.” The poor kid still looked pretty scared. At my words, he sighed, then turned his head toward the window.

Once we were out on the main road, my dad spoke again. His eyes were closed, and his head was back against the leather headrest. “Genius, huh? What kind of genius?”

I barely slowed for the stop sign at Waukegan Road. “He makes bombs, Dad. Will you please stop talking?”

“I do
not
make bombs, Nicholas. I cannot discuss it, but suffice it to say that it’s not a weapons application. And that’s all I can say on the matter.”

Despite my worrying about tough old Mike Shelton, I had to grin at Henry’s affronted tone. “Sorry, Doc.” I flashed a look at him in the rearview mirror. He was glaring at me.

My dad puffed out a laugh. “Got yourself an interesting one there, boy.”

“You can say that again, Dad.”

Those Jaguar-blue eyes met mine once more.

* * * *

Christ. It had been a hell of a day. First the craptastic school thing with the troglodyte father-and-son team, then Grant knocking me around during our sparring. My shoulder was aching again. Ending the day here at the hospital was the kicker.

Of course, in between there somewhere, I had gotten in some nookie with Henry. That part had been pretty good. Damned good, actually. And the dinner we’d had together had been a good time. Kind of amazing, actually, that I’d spent time with a guy without sex and still really enjoyed myself.

Aside from being where I was right now, the day
had
been improving.

We were in the emergency waiting room, and my dad had been in with the medical team for more than three hours. Henry had surprised the hell out of me by wanting to wait with us—why, I did not know. He was fairly happy at the moment, leafing through a dog-eared copy of
Popular Mechanics
. I huffed a silent laugh. I hadn’t even known that magazine was still in print. And Henry did appear to be pretty interested in whatever was in there.

Grant was over by the television area, and he was watching some stupid courtroom thing. I’d been listening with half an ear, and I found myself getting antsy at the absolute numb-nuts people they let on those things. I moved over to sit by the kid.

“How can you watch this crap?”

He jerked in surprise. “Huh?”

“This show. Don’t you think it’s kind of stupid?” I flopped down into the armchair next to the sofa where he was stretched out, his feet crossed on the floor in front of him.

“I think it’s my fault.”

I frowned. “What is?”

“Grandpa.” Grant avoided my eyes.

“What? Why would you think that?” I watched expressions chase across the kid’s face. His emotions went from scared, to defiant, back to scared.

“Grandpa got sick because I was telling him about what happened in school today. I told him about Jeff Hastings and how he hates Jews and Shawn and…and a lot of other people.” Hazel eyes slid to me briefly before Grant shuddered in a breath. I figured he meant people like me. He sat up. “Gramps started to get red in the face when I told him I got called to the principal’s office. He…he put his hand on his chest when he heard that I—when I told him I got suspended.” Grant had tears in his eyes when he looked up at me. “I didn’t mean it, Uncle Nick. I didn’t mean for Gramps to get sick.”

Jesus
. “Grant.” I ran my hand through my hair. “Come here.” I moved next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “You can’t think that. It was just coincidence that his heart started to act up at the same time you were talking to him. No. Don’t shake your head.” I tugged him by his hair so I could meet his gaze. “Listen to me. You and Gramps could have been watching TV and the same thing would have happened. He went to the doctor a couple weeks ago, and I’m pretty sure the guy told him to take better care of himself.” I sighed. “Let’s just hope it was a warning and not something really serious.”

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Grant rested his head against me, and for a moment, all I could think about was back when he was little and The Bitch had brought him around. He’d laid against my shoulder back then too, but he’d also been so little I could hold him in my arms.

“Sure he is, kid.” I had to believe that. “And go easy on my shoulder, there, will you? I’m still feeling the effects of your kick.”

That got me a tiny chuckle, and Grant seemed to relax. “You gotta move faster.” He swiped a hand across his eyes, then sat back on the sofa. He turned his head. “He sure doesn’t say much, does he?”

“Who, Henry?” I followed Grant’s gaze to where my date was pawing through the magazine pile. “He is a little different.” I raised a brow. “He can talk when he wants to, though. He certainly had plenty to say before, at the house.” I stopped for a second, remembering even earlier, in Henry’s driveway. “Um. Yeah. And other times, when he does… And when I—” I caught myself just in time. This was my fourteen-year-old nephew I was talking to.

“Ew.”

“Huh?”

“Just, ew, Uncle Nick. You should see the look on your face.”

“What?”

“You look…you look, I don’t know. But stop it.”

Exasperated, I put my hands up. “What in the heck are you mumbling about?”

Grant held his breath, looking like he was constipated. Finally, he burst out with, “You look like some of the girls at school when they’re talking about boys!”

“Shh!” I flapped one hand at him. “Pipe down, will you?”
Christ
. I snuck a glance around, checking to see if anyone had heard that. “I do not look like a teenage girl, for crying out loud.”

Now seemingly enjoying himself, Grant brought one ankle up, propping it on the other knee. “Oh, yeah, you did. You got this goofy look on your face when you were checking out Henry. Like you wanted to go over there and—”

“And what? And I was not checking him out!”

Finally breaking into outright laughter, Grant collapsed on the couch, arms wrapped around himself. It struck me right then and there that, for the first time since he’d come to live with me, my nephew looked happy. Unbelievable.
We’re at the emergency room, and the kid finally looks like he might be okay living with me.

“Mr. Shelton?” One of the ER admins called to me from the desk.

“Hey.” I patted Grant on the shoulder. “You wait here, ’kay?” I headed toward her. Henry had stood when my name was called, and he met me at the desk. “Doc, will you keep an eye on Grant for me?”

“Absolutely. Don’t worry about him.” He slid a hand up my back. “Just let us know what’s going on when you can.”

I wanted so badly to touch him, wrap an arm around him and hug him, even—God forbid—kiss him, but it wasn’t the time or the place. When I met his blue eyes, though, I had the feeling he could tell what I was thinking. “Thanks.”

I was ushered through a pair of doors. Then I followed the admin back into the bowels of the ER.

* * * *

“Yes, it is.” The doc was sounding kind of cranky when I got back to the waiting room an hour later.

“No, it’s not.” And Grant was sounding like a teenager again. Smart-assed, know-it-all…

“
Yes
, it is.”

“Uh-uh.” Grant held out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

I stood far enough away that the two of them couldn’t see me but I could hear and see what was going on. Not that I could even begin to tell what was going on, of course.

“Fine. Here.” Henry produced what looked like a smartphone—of course, he’d have a smartphone—clicked something on it, and handed it to the kid.

“You’ll see.” Grant busied himself typing away, digits moving like crazy. I wiggled my own thumbs in sympathy. Didn’t that hurt?

“See? Look at this.” Grant shoved the phone back under Henry’s nose, and I was amused to see the offended expression on my lover’s face.

Wow. That was the first time that I’d consciously thought of Henry that way.
My lover
. I couldn’t help but run my gaze up and down him, my thoughts racing.

Kind of exciting, actually. Most of my associations had been the quick-and-dirty kind. In fact, I think Henry might have been one of the first guys who’d actually met my dad.

“I…can’t believe it.” Henry stared at the phone display. “Where have I been? When did you say this happened?”

“In 2006.” Grant rolled his eyes. “Dude, you gotta get with it. I thought you were a genius.” The snot flopped back down on the couch to watch television.

I could so sympathize with Henry. There was something about the way only a teenager could dismiss a person that just made for teeth gritting and fist clenching. I moved closer, coming to a stop just beyond the sofa. I cleared my throat. “Hey, guys.”

Grant jumped up, and Henry slowly followed suit. His eyes searched mine. “How is your father?”

“He’s okay.” My shoulders sagged with a release of tension. “This was a big warning.” I scratched an itchy spot on my neck. “They think it was an attack of angina, but they’re going to do a couple more tests to make sure. They want to rule out a pulmonary embolism.” At the blank look I got from Grant, I repeated what the doctor had just told me. “That’s a blockage in an artery in the lung. If that’s what it is—and they don’t think it’s that—it could burst. That’s why they need to rule it out.” I moved around to sit on the couch.

“Angina. That’s a symptom of heart disease.” Henry sat next to me, looking concerned. “I’m sure they mentioned that.”

Grant sank onto the coffee table, facing us. “Heart disease? Is he gonna die?”

I glared at Henry. “Will you stop being so doom and gloom?” I pointed at the kid. “And you, will you just relax?” I exhaled heavily, suddenly really tired. “You’re right, Doc. The angina is a symptom of heart disease, but they’re going to give us all kinds of directions about stuff Dad can do to make it better, through diet and exercise.”

“Maybe Grandpa can work out with us, do tae kwon do.” Grant looked hopeful.

“Perhaps tai chi would suit him better, at his age.” Henry sounded a little superior. Maybe he was getting a little of his own back with the smart-aleck teenager. When Grant sent him a dirty look, I knew I was right.

“Guys. Whatever it is, we don’t have to figure it out tonight.” When I turned my wrist to check the time, I was amazed. “Good God. It’s after midnight.” As if saying that triggered something in my brain, I yawned. Widely. “Oops. Sorry. Anyway. It’s going to take another couple of hours before the tests are done and we get the results. Doc, do you mind taking Grant home?”

Henry was nodding before I could even finish. “Absolutely.”

“No way!” Grant spoke at the same time.

“
And
.” I drew out the word to get their attention, since they were glaring at each other again. “I know this is really asking a lot.” I looked directly at Henry. “Will you stay at the house until I can get someone there? I called Sarita, and she’s going to head over.” I dug into my pocket. “Here are the car keys.” I tossed them to Henry.

“I’m not a baby! I can stay by myself!” Grant was ready to get up in my grill.

I swung my head around. “Will you please take it easy?” I gripped his shoulder, and he promptly shrugged me off. Sighing again, I put up my hands, palms out. “All right, all right. I won’t touch you. But I cannot stay here with Dad and be worrying about you home alone at the same time. Not tonight. Not with all this going on.” I tilted my head down just enough to look him in the eye. “Will you please do me a favor and just let Henry drive you home?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Whatever, dude.”

Teenagers. I really didn’t remember having this much attitude when I was Grant’s age. No wonder my dad’s heart was acting up. Between Grant and me, the old man’s ticker was probably getting a workout. Christ. Something else to worry about.

“Doc. Just take my car to your house. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

He stepped up close and personal. “Relax, Nicholas. Stay focused on your father. I’ll take Grant home and meet…Sarita, was it?” At my nod, he gave me a tiny smile. “We’ll be fine.” He cast a glance at my nephew, who was very carefully not looking at us. Henry’s voice went down to a whisper. “We have unfinished business. Remember that.” He kissed me before I could stop him. His tongue darted inside; then Henry was two feet away with a smirk on his face.

I ignored Grant’s snort of disgust and pointed one finger at him. “Behave.”

I walked with them to the ER entrance. When Henry lingered like he was going to say something else, Grant made a face. “Dudes. Seriously. Keep it in your pants, okay?”

I wanted to smack him. “Take it down a notch, smart guy.”

He gave me a long-suffering look. “Fine. Can I have the keys? I’ll start the car.”

Glad for the chance to be alone with Henry, even for a few seconds, I slipped my fingers into his hand, pulling the keys back. Tossing them to Grant, I jerked my head toward the car. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

My hands in the front pockets of my jeans, I rocked on my heels. “Well, Doc, some date this turned out to be.” I looked out over the parking lot, watching my breath steam in the cold air. “Instead of spending some happy time hitting it at your house, we’re over here watching the paint dry in the emergency room. Top that off with the demon seed over there”—I nodded at the back of Grant’s head—“and it’s a hell of a night. Bet you don’t have too many guys treat you to a good time like this.”