My father looked at me, and for the first time that I could remember, there was fear in his eyes. The man who’d bought his way through life had discovered that death always had a card to play and rarely lost a hand.
He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “You could have gotten yourself killed, Merit. You could have gotten yourself killed.”
It was tragedy’s unique ability to cross rifts between people, even deep crevasses between family members.
“I’m all right,” I said, patting him on the back. I appreciated the hug, but that didn’t make it any less awkward, considering our history. “I’m fine.”
“How did it happen?” my mother asked.
“Rioters,” Ethan said. “The same ones who attacked the vampire business and House earlier this week.”
“What could they have against Charles?” she asked.
“I presume it’s related to his work as a police officer?” my father asked.
“Possibly,” Ethan vaguely agreed. “We aren’t entirely sure. Why don’t we sit down? It could be a bit of time yet.”
Because he was right, we sat down in the chairs, and we waited some more.
I tried to rest, but my mind kept spinning with questions. Why had my grandfather been targeted? Because he’d supported vampires as Ombudsman? Because he was on our side? He’d been a cop for years; there seemed little doubt he’d made enemies along the way. Had those enemies become wrapped up in riots and anti-vampire hatred?
Most frighteningly, had he been targeted because he was my grandfather? Was I now a liability to my family?
Grief weighed on me, and I rested my head on Ethan’s shoulder.
Be still, Ethan silently told me. Be still.
I locked away the fear and the grief, and I did as I was told.
—
Every time the hallway door opened, I jumped, anxious for news, good or bad. But we were an hour in when a tall man with a head of thick dark hair and dressed in turquoise scrubs stepped into the room.
“Merit family?” he asked, his accent thick but the origin unknown.
“That’s us,” my father said, standing.
The doctor nodded and walked over, then sat down in an empty chair across from us.
“Dr. Berenson,” he said. “I was Mr. Merit’s surgeon. The surgery went very well, and we’ve moved him back into his room.”
I closed my eyes in relief.
“What’s his prognosis?” my father asked.
“Good. He took a pretty good fall. Shattered his pelvis and broke a few ribs. It was internal injuries from the beam’s landing on top of him that did most of the internal damage. He has sensation in his legs, which is great, but his pelvis took a beating.”
“He’ll be ambulatory?” Ethan asked.
“He’s not a spring chicken, and he’s going to need some pretty extensive physical therapy. But, barring complications, we have every expectation he’ll be able to walk again. We’ll keep him until we’re sure he’s stable and healing, and then you can decide on a rehab facility or home-health nurse.”
Jeff whistled. “Chuck is not going to like either of those options.”
“Like is irrelevant,” my father said quietly. “He’ll stay with us.”
Chuck isn’t going to like that, either, I silently told Ethan.
I suspect you are right. But your father has room and resources to ensure he’s well cared for. He’ll adapt, as we all must do.
The doctor nodded. “You’ve got some time to make those decisions. He’ll say in intensive care for tonight, and as soon as he’s awake and stable, we’ll move him to a room.” He rose. “I think that’s about it for tonight. You can check with the nurse anytime you have questions. And visiting hours are posted on the wall.”
“I’ll stay tonight,” my father said, to the surprise of all of us. “He’s my father, and I wasn’t there when he was injured. It’s the least I can do. I’ll stay.” He glanced at me. “Go home. Get a shower and some sleep. You look like you need both.”
This time, I found I couldn’t disagree with him.
—
We drove home in silence. Jeff and Catcher volunteered to get Moneypenny back to the House, which was an offer I couldn’t refuse. I was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, and in no shape to drive.
When we arrived at the House, less than an hour before dawn, we found security tight. Luc, Malik, Lindsey, and Margot met us in the foyer when we arrived.
“How is he?” Malik asked.
“He’s okay,” I said. “Long road to recovery, but he’s alive. And that’s something.”
“That is something,” Luc said, pulling me into a bear hug. It was definitely the night for unexpected shows of affection. “Glad you’re safe, Sentinel.”