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Miss Parker leaned back into the soft leather seats of the Centre’s private jet. She thought back over what she had just read in the open file in front of her and wondered if she made a mistake in not bringing a nurse along for the ride. From the sounds of the doctor’s notes, the Brian Trust was dealing with some severe injuries and the last thing Parker wanted was for him to die on his way back home. Her father would be so disappointed in her and she would never get back to Corporate where she belonged. That alone made the decision for her and she leaned forward to grab the jet phone.
Twenty minutes, three phone calls and one rapidly rising temper later, Parker had her nurse. Heads were going to roll when she got back to Blue Cove. How dare those incompetents down in Los Angeles tell her that they needed her father’s permission to nursemaid one injured labrat on a short trip back east! Who the hell did they think they were down in La-La Land? They worked for the Centre, which meant the Parkers and she was her father’s only child, their future boss. Well, not now. There is no way she is going to have those idiots on her payroll. Plans churned through her brain, each being dismissed as not vindictive enough.
Broots and Sam sat on the other side of the plane from Miss Parker. Broots was able quivering into a mass of goo from fear that Miss Parker might turn her wrath on him. He went over all his preparations for the trip from Ontario to Apple Valley. Car rental arranged, check. Directions to Apple Valley, check. Hotel reservations made in case they were held overnight, check. Names and directions to better class restaurants, check. He knew there was something that he was missing though and his heart was about beating out of his chest in the fear that she would be the one to point it out. Broots waited for Miss Parker to leave her seat and head toward the back of the plane to the mini bar before he asked Sam for help. Unfortunately, his plan backfired as their whispering caught her attention.
“An ambulance, you moron.” She snapped after listening to all his preparations. “Rat-boy can’t sit in a car with those injuries. Why the hell do you think I went through the hassle of getting the boy-wonder a nurse?”
Broots paled to a sickly grayish-white color as Miss Parker ranted at him. He knew that she carried a gun and just prayed that she was not going to shoot him with it. He quickly grabbed his laptop and started looking for a private ambulance service, Miss Parker’s glare an incentive to work faster.
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“Father?” Jarod repeated when Sydney didn’t answer the first time.
“I had to tell the doctor something, Jarod. And, legally, he could only tell your next-of-kin your condition.”
“But you’ve always said you weren’t my father.” Jarod was confused. Had Sydney lied to the doctor or had he been lying to Jarod all along?
“I’m not your father, Jarod. At least not biologically. You know that.”
“Then you lied to the doctor? You always said lying was bad and punished me if I did.”
“Lying is wrong, Jarod, but have you ever heard the term ‘foster father’?”
Jarod thought for a minute then shook his head negatively.
“A foster father is a man who assumes the parental role in a child’s life when the biological father is either unwilling or unable to. Your father died when you were still quite young and the Centre placed me in the role of father. Now, keep in mind, that was not their goal and they would have taken you from me if they had suspected that relationship.”
“They would have given me to Mr. Raines, like when you would go away?” Jarod had reoccurring nightmares about the things Raines would do to him while Sydney was away. Things that he had never told Sydney about.
The very quietness of Jarod’s voice and the absolute immobility of his body told Sydney all he needed to know about Jarod’s fear of Raines. His mind flashed back to their first trip to the mall and Jarod’s assertions that Raines was sending people to hurt them. He knew that was an issue they would have to explore in great detail, but this was not the place for it.
The rattle of loose wheels approaching and the opening of the door stopped the conversation between the two injured men. An orderly pushed the food cart into the room and started setting up the bedside tables. The man glanced at the chart showing whose meal was whose, set the dishes on the tables, gave Jarod a brief explanation of the bed control, and then rushed out the door, clearly anxious to get out of the room before it’s occupants could air their complaints.
Sydney looked over at Jarod and quietly chuckled. Jarod’s face was screwed up in an expression of pure disgust and he was poking at the oatmeal as if checking to see if it was alive.
“You need a light bland meal until all the sedative is out of your system, Jarod.” Sydney reminded the younger man.
“I know, but, Sydney, this looks like something they would feed me in the Centre. The stuff you make for breakfast looks better than this. You put raisins or apples chunks or things like that in it.”
He poked the grayish oatmeal glob a couple more times and then looked at the rest of his meal. The fruit juice container was emptied with a couple of swallows, but the applesauce was pushed away with a “blech”. Then Jarod’s eye was caught by the green quivering mass on the upper corner of the tray. He poked at it with his spoon and watched as it jiggled and wiggled. He scooped up a small bite and tentatively tasted it.
“This is very good, Sydney. What is it?”
Sydney grinned at Jarod. He looked like he had just found the most marvelous thing in the world.
“It’s called ‘jell-o’, Jarod. It’s a dessert that you are supposed to eat after your meal.”
Jarod just grinned at Sydney and took another mouthful.
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Miss Parker pulled into the hospital parking lot, tires squealing in protest. She ignored all the ‘patient loading/unloading’ signs and pulled right up to the emergency room entrance. White clad figures saw the car and rushed out with a gurney, only to be pushed aside with a rude ‘Out of my way, morons’. She marched up to the admittance desk and demanded the room number for Sydney and Jarod Long. She started snapping her fingers in the face of the young nurse staffing the desk when her question was not promptly answered.
An older, stern-faced woman motioned to the younger nurse that she would handle Miss Parker and shooed her off to other duties.
“What is going on here?” she asked Miss Parker briskly. “This is the hospital emergency room, not the information desk.”
“Then tell me where they are and I will leave,” Miss Parker snapped back.
“We don’t have that information here. I suggest you move your vehicle before I have it towed away and then ask the front admissions desk where your “friends” are.”
Miss Parker glared at the woman, but quickly realized that she was fighting a losing battle.
“Broots, move the car. Sam, follow me.”
With one final glare, she pushed past the nurse and stormed down the corridor leading into the hospital. A couple of minutes and one intimidated receptionist later, Miss Parker and her crew were headed up to the third floor.
Miss Parker ignored the floor nurses and their calls that visiting hours weren’t for another couple of hours. Her eyes were fixed on a door halfway down the corridor. Her prey was thirty seconds away and her pace quickened. The faster they were back in the Centre where they belonged, the faster she was back in Corporate where she belonged. She blinked and their door appeared in front of her. A truly wicked grin bloomed and she threw open the door.
“Well, well, well. Looks like this is my lucky day.”
The stunned expression on Jarod’s face and the horrified gasp that came from Sydney turned her wicked grin into a full-blown evil smile.
Twenty minutes, three phone calls and one rapidly rising temper later, Parker had her nurse. Heads were going to roll when she got back to Blue Cove. How dare those incompetents down in Los Angeles tell her that they needed her father’s permission to nursemaid one injured labrat on a short trip back east! Who the hell did they think they were down in La-La Land? They worked for the Centre, which meant the Parkers and she was her father’s only child, their future boss. Well, not now. There is no way she is going to have those idiots on her payroll. Plans churned through her brain, each being dismissed as not vindictive enough.
Broots and Sam sat on the other side of the plane from Miss Parker. Broots was able quivering into a mass of goo from fear that Miss Parker might turn her wrath on him. He went over all his preparations for the trip from Ontario to Apple Valley. Car rental arranged, check. Directions to Apple Valley, check. Hotel reservations made in case they were held overnight, check. Names and directions to better class restaurants, check. He knew there was something that he was missing though and his heart was about beating out of his chest in the fear that she would be the one to point it out. Broots waited for Miss Parker to leave her seat and head toward the back of the plane to the mini bar before he asked Sam for help. Unfortunately, his plan backfired as their whispering caught her attention.
“An ambulance, you moron.” She snapped after listening to all his preparations. “Rat-boy can’t sit in a car with those injuries. Why the hell do you think I went through the hassle of getting the boy-wonder a nurse?”
Broots paled to a sickly grayish-white color as Miss Parker ranted at him. He knew that she carried a gun and just prayed that she was not going to shoot him with it. He quickly grabbed his laptop and started looking for a private ambulance service, Miss Parker’s glare an incentive to work faster.
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
“Father?” Jarod repeated when Sydney didn’t answer the first time.
“I had to tell the doctor something, Jarod. And, legally, he could only tell your next-of-kin your condition.”
“But you’ve always said you weren’t my father.” Jarod was confused. Had Sydney lied to the doctor or had he been lying to Jarod all along?
“I’m not your father, Jarod. At least not biologically. You know that.”
“Then you lied to the doctor? You always said lying was bad and punished me if I did.”
“Lying is wrong, Jarod, but have you ever heard the term ‘foster father’?”
Jarod thought for a minute then shook his head negatively.
“A foster father is a man who assumes the parental role in a child’s life when the biological father is either unwilling or unable to. Your father died when you were still quite young and the Centre placed me in the role of father. Now, keep in mind, that was not their goal and they would have taken you from me if they had suspected that relationship.”
“They would have given me to Mr. Raines, like when you would go away?” Jarod had reoccurring nightmares about the things Raines would do to him while Sydney was away. Things that he had never told Sydney about.
The very quietness of Jarod’s voice and the absolute immobility of his body told Sydney all he needed to know about Jarod’s fear of Raines. His mind flashed back to their first trip to the mall and Jarod’s assertions that Raines was sending people to hurt them. He knew that was an issue they would have to explore in great detail, but this was not the place for it.
The rattle of loose wheels approaching and the opening of the door stopped the conversation between the two injured men. An orderly pushed the food cart into the room and started setting up the bedside tables. The man glanced at the chart showing whose meal was whose, set the dishes on the tables, gave Jarod a brief explanation of the bed control, and then rushed out the door, clearly anxious to get out of the room before it’s occupants could air their complaints.
Sydney looked over at Jarod and quietly chuckled. Jarod’s face was screwed up in an expression of pure disgust and he was poking at the oatmeal as if checking to see if it was alive.
“You need a light bland meal until all the sedative is out of your system, Jarod.” Sydney reminded the younger man.
“I know, but, Sydney, this looks like something they would feed me in the Centre. The stuff you make for breakfast looks better than this. You put raisins or apples chunks or things like that in it.”
He poked the grayish oatmeal glob a couple more times and then looked at the rest of his meal. The fruit juice container was emptied with a couple of swallows, but the applesauce was pushed away with a “blech”. Then Jarod’s eye was caught by the green quivering mass on the upper corner of the tray. He poked at it with his spoon and watched as it jiggled and wiggled. He scooped up a small bite and tentatively tasted it.
“This is very good, Sydney. What is it?”
Sydney grinned at Jarod. He looked like he had just found the most marvelous thing in the world.
“It’s called ‘jell-o’, Jarod. It’s a dessert that you are supposed to eat after your meal.”
Jarod just grinned at Sydney and took another mouthful.
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
Miss Parker pulled into the hospital parking lot, tires squealing in protest. She ignored all the ‘patient loading/unloading’ signs and pulled right up to the emergency room entrance. White clad figures saw the car and rushed out with a gurney, only to be pushed aside with a rude ‘Out of my way, morons’. She marched up to the admittance desk and demanded the room number for Sydney and Jarod Long. She started snapping her fingers in the face of the young nurse staffing the desk when her question was not promptly answered.
An older, stern-faced woman motioned to the younger nurse that she would handle Miss Parker and shooed her off to other duties.
“What is going on here?” she asked Miss Parker briskly. “This is the hospital emergency room, not the information desk.”
“Then tell me where they are and I will leave,” Miss Parker snapped back.
“We don’t have that information here. I suggest you move your vehicle before I have it towed away and then ask the front admissions desk where your “friends” are.”
Miss Parker glared at the woman, but quickly realized that she was fighting a losing battle.
“Broots, move the car. Sam, follow me.”
With one final glare, she pushed past the nurse and stormed down the corridor leading into the hospital. A couple of minutes and one intimidated receptionist later, Miss Parker and her crew were headed up to the third floor.
Miss Parker ignored the floor nurses and their calls that visiting hours weren’t for another couple of hours. Her eyes were fixed on a door halfway down the corridor. Her prey was thirty seconds away and her pace quickened. The faster they were back in the Centre where they belonged, the faster she was back in Corporate where she belonged. She blinked and their door appeared in front of her. A truly wicked grin bloomed and she threw open the door.
“Well, well, well. Looks like this is my lucky day.”
The stunned expression on Jarod’s face and the horrified gasp that came from Sydney turned her wicked grin into a full-blown evil smile.
