Chapter Thirty-Two
“You’re a damn hero, Zander Ross.”
Great words to wake up to. Unfortunately, they didn’t come from the pretty lips of Gretel Morrison. They came from Nate Prudhoe, who stood next to his hospital bed with Jason on one side, Petey on the other. Both the boys looked scared shitless.
Good God. They’d nearly lost another “parent.”
He managed a grin and a “shaka” sign; he and Petey had learned it in Hawaii. “Who said you could skip school?”
“Everyone,” said Jason.
“Does it hurt?” asked Petey, eyeing his bandaged middle with fascination.
“Fu—” Nimbly, he turned ‘f**k yes’ into, “For sure.” At least his brain didn’t seem the worse for being shot. “How’s Gretel?”
“She’s good. A bullet grazed her arm and she’s in shock, but it could have been so much worse. She told us how
