Wild Tiger Chase | Book #2 (Complete)

42: into the mist (Part II)

— Rob —

The emergency unit was way too bright.

The many lights overhead, the almost-reflexive white walls, and the metallic clasps and stripes in the staff's uniform made this place look like the salt desert in New Potosí. His eyes hurt, so Rob decided to keep them down, staring at the way his fingers interlocked with Léon's. Amidst so much sickness and coldness, having his husband's hands in his gave Rob some comfort.

Ah... husband. He loved the sound of that.

This was a hand he recognized; a hand he had felt, held, and kissed many times before. It was Rob's, Léon had said in his vows. His to love, care for, and respect. And yours are mine; mine to love, care for, and respect.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I really can't find any Esposito here." The desk phone started ringing again, but the receptionist raised it and smashed it back in place with way more strength than necessary.

For the past five minutes, it had been ringing without a pause, and every time the receptionist answered it—interrupting his search for Phillip's room—he had to use the same polite refusal to whatever products were being offered. People didn't call hospitals nowadays; they had emergency apps for that, leaving the few landlines still working at the mercy of marketing sharks.

"Are you sure?" Rob said. "It's Esposito. E-S-P-O-S-I-T-O. With an S and only one T."

Léon raised an impressed eyebrow.

"What? I'm good with names," Rob whispered.

"Are you?" Léon's voice was teasing and low, said in an almost whisper that made Rob's skin crawl.

"Right, only one T." The receptionist focused on the screen again. His cheeks darkened, and he cleared his throat. His fingers ran across the projected letters beside the monitor. "Searching again."

Rob licked his lips. Here, standing in this hospital in Cidade Santa, moments before meeting their family, Léon's hand felt different; it felt more solid than anything else around them. It felt real. Rob pulled his bag up his shoulder and glanced at Léon. He wore a serious countenance, his beautiful brown eye set on the sky outside as Rob's were, only a moment ago. As if sensing Rob's stare, Léon moved his gaze to him.

"Something you want to tell me, Bhalu?"

For a moment, Rob considered pointing out how strange those words sounded. For a moment, Rob thought Léon expected him to say something specific. To say what?

"Here, found him. Room seventeen of the ICU," the receptionist said. "South wing, third floor. Visiting hours end at eleven, so please be quick. You have less than an hour." He placed two visitor passes on the desk and smiled. The gesture was strained and apologetic, as tired as the few patients pacing around the hall. "Take a left here and—"

"I know where it is." Léon took the passes and offered one to Rob. "But thank you."

"Ah. Right," said the receptionist. "Wait. Léon Dickens. You're Dr. Kaliandra Dickens's son, right? I heard so much about you." He breathed out a smile. "I'm still new here; I hope I didn't offend you or anything."

"No!" Léon grinned. "No, of course not."

Rob smiled. He put the pass on his chest pocket and tapped it to activate it. Rob loved to see Léon interacting with other people. Léon was still known as Legend in Cidade Santa. Sure, nowadays he was a retired superhero—they didn't have anything to fight against anymore; the world was finally at peace—but people still looked up to him with respect. With deference.