Rick stood over the medical bed, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. He stared at the frail, elderly form of Silas Warner, whose breathing had finally steadied to a rhythmic, reassuring hum. The monitors, which had been screaming in red a mere hour ago, now beeped a calm, steady green.
The patriarch of the Warner family was going to live.
Rick turned away from the bed, his gaze shifting to the two remaining people in the room. Victoria stood with her arms crossed, her chest rising and falling heavily beneath her torn leather top. Beside her, Marnus glared at Rick, his one good eye twitching with unresolved fury.
"Well, now that the old man isn't going to croak on us," Rick began, his tone light but carrying a sharp edge, "I believe it's time to discuss my compensation."
