Chapter 222

My first thought is to defend myself, so I straighten my stance, take a strong step forward, and open my mouth.

Yet before any sound can leave my throat, Steven places his hand on Archer’s shoulder and says, “It was my idea.”

Archer’s angry gaze immediately snaps toward his brother instead.

Steven, surprisingly, does not back down. “I invited Chloe.”

Archer grits his teeth. “Why?”

“With Neil’s life hanging in the balance,” Steven says, “she has a right to be here.”

Wait. Neil’s life is in balance? What does that mean?

I step forward, ready to ask. I’m tired of Archer’s temper and the boys pissing contests all the time. If Neil is that much in trouble, I want answers right the fuck now.

“What is going on?” I demand, tired of playing nice.

Archer shoots his glare my way once more, but it doesn’t affect my resolve. I’m too used to his dirty looks by now. And, looking closer, I can see the hint of worry in his eyes, deep down behind the rage. It’s concern driving this fury, not hatred or disgust.

Steven also looks at me. His gaze offers a warning. He’s trying to help me, and to keep helping me, he needs me to keep quiet.

I narrow my eyes at him, hoping to convey the returning message that I will not be quiet for long.

He gives a subtle nod. Message received.

Archer, seeing the movement, repositions his anger back towards his brother.

“We all sacrificed to keep Chloe safe,” Archer says. “Neil most of all. Bringing her here undermines that sacrifice.”

“Is that a reason for Neil to die?” Steven says. He pushes his glasses up his nose with his forefinger.

I’m pleasantly surprised by Steven’s ability to maintain his composure in the face of such a furious Archer. Archer’s muscle and fury make him quite the contender most of the time. I stand up to him too, but it still feels like a battle, even if there is no physicality.

Steven makes it look easy.

Maybe being brothers with Archer makes you immune to his assholery.

“Chloe has an effect on us. She makes us calmer,” Steven says, and he sounds so reasonable.

It can’t be though. He has to be bullshitting. No one has made a comment to me like that before. Although the brothers were allergic to feelings, so if they truly did think that, they likely kept it to themselves.

Steven continues, “Her presence might help Neil.”

“Neil can pull through on his own,” Archer insists.

“You don’t know that,” Steven replies.

“You are wrong to doubt our brother,” Archer growls.

“Archer.”

Beau places his hand on Archer’s shoulder. He tugs him backwards a step, seemingly so Beau can insert himself into the argument physically as well as verbally. Beau steps into the new open space he’s made.

“It’s too late now,” Beau says. “The nanny is here. What’s done is done.”

“You’re on his side?” Archer asks, surprised.

“I’m not on anyone’s side but Neil’s,” Beau says. “But since she’s here, we might as well see if she can have an effect. Isn’t it worth a shot?”

Archer continues to glower so long that I kind of want to smack him upside the head to see if any emotion but anger will jar loose. Despite the urge, I keep my hands firmly to myself. A man as stubborn as Archer needs to process his emotions all his own, even if it takes a while.

And it does take a while.

But then, finally, he grunts, “Fine.”

Yet before I can breathe a sigh of relief, Archer steps toward me and snatches my arm. Without a word, he turns and drags me behind him as he storms out of the waiting room and into a hallway of patient rooms. He’s not hurting me, but he is insistent. With his grip this vicelike, I can’t break free.

He stops outside of a patient’s room. Through the glass in the door, I can see Neil inside, asleep on the bed. Wires connect him to several nearby machines. The one that detects his heartbeat, I can hear beeping even through the door.

Gods, he is as pale as death. His cheeks are sunken in. The bags under his eyes are heavy and black.

What the hells has happened in the past day since I’ve seen him last? He never looked totally healthy since having the silver implanted, but to devolve this far?

“He’s in a coma,” Steven says as he comes to stand next to me.

Archer continues to grip my arm, like he’s afraid I might rush into the room without hearing the explanation. Maybe he’s right. My whole body is urging me to get in there, to be near Neil, to help him…

But my brain knows hearing the explanation is what I should actually do. I need to know the full extent of what’s happening here before I descend into despair or raise myself to hope.

I give Steven a questioning look, prompting him to continue.

“The silver poisoning has stretched too far through his body. It’s even does as we’ve feared and reached his heart.”

“I thought the doctors were giving him treatments to keep that from happening,” I say.

“Those were only ever temporary measures,” Steven replies. “Even with their best efforts, the silver has totally interwoven through his entire system.”

My heart sinks down into the opening pit in my stomach. Does that mean it’s too late to save him? No, that can’t be. Steven called me here because he believes I can help.

Neil’s condition hasn’t yet passed into hopelessness.

“The doctors can perform a procedure to save him. Removing the silver would be the first step,” Steven says.

“What are they waiting for?” I ask. A bit of desperate anger claws up my throat. Why aren’t they prepping him already? Why isn’t he already in surgery?

“Part of the procedure is Neil using his healing factor to physically fight back the poison.” Steven shakes his head. “The doctors aren’t certain he’ll survive if he’s unconscious.”

“So we need him to wake up?” I ask.

Steven nods.

“And you think I can help do that?” I ask.

Steven nods again.

“He’s missed you,” Archer says.

“He hasn’t slept since you left,” Steven adds. “He wanders the halls like a zombie. Somehow he keeps finding his way back to your empty room. I caught him there twice now, just standing, looking. Sighing. He doesn’t talk about it, doesn’t admit it, but we all know it’s true.”

Archer’s grip loosens on my arm. With just his fingertips, he trails a pathway down from my forearm to my hand. Then he pulls away.

It was a tiny, subtle little motion that from anyone else I might have suspected was an accident that meant nothing. But from Archer? Archer is deliberate. He wouldn’t do anything without intention.

Was this his way of telling me he has missed me too?

I’m afraid to read too much into it. Archer is the one who has always been the cruelest to me. To overlook that now would be an affront to my past self.

But there would be time to overanalyze all of Archer’s subtle motions later. For now, Neil needs to remain my top priority.

I look at Steven. “I’ll find some way to wake him.”