Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Yeahhhh,” Rian said, giving Cillian a concerned look, which was an odd thing to see on Rian’s usually so easy-going face. “I am gonna go track down that doctor,” he said. “Seems like you maybe got your head knocked a little too hard,” he added, making his way to the door.
Once they were gone, Cillian let out a deep breath.
“Dell…” he called, voice whisper-soft, making me turn my head just a little to look at him. “You okay?” he asked, sounding a little choked up.
And something about the gentle concern from a brother who was more like a father figure seemed to crack the dam I’d built inside to stay at least a little level-headed about the whole situation.
“No,” I said, the sob bubbling up and bursting out of me.
“Okay. It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, folding over me, but hovering, a low-contact hug. “You’re gonna feel better soon. I’ll make sure they give you the good shit.
“I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
“Shh. It doesn’t matter.”
“You can’t be mad at Nyx,” I insisted.
“Dell, stop, kid. Everything is okay. Stop worrying about everyone else.”
“It was just as much my idea as hers,” I insisted, even if that was a bit of a lie.
“Stop. I’m not mad at Nyx. Or you, for that matter.”
“It could have happened anywhere,” I insisted, even if I knew, objectively, it probably couldn’t have happened in Shady Valley, since no one there would have the balls to put their hands on the sister of a family of Irish mafia brothers.
“Delaney Shannon Murphy,” he started, tone mock-firm, “you need to calm down. I’m not mad at anyone but the motherfucker who did this to you.”
“Conor…”
“Is a pain in my ass,” Cillian said, making a snort-laugh escape me. “He’s worried. And he doesn’t do worry well. Anger is easier for him, so that is what he is going with. Sean will calm him down. And if he can’t, I will. You need to take that underserving asshole’s advice and focus on you, not everyone else, yeah?”
“He has a name.”
“And I don’t need to use it,” Cillian said, and I couldn’t help but wonder how he could be so rational about one thing, but so irrational about another.
Brothers.
“He saved me.”
“And I’m grateful for that, doesn’t mean I have to like him.”
“Miss Murphy,” a voice broke in, making Cillian and I both turn to find the doctor standing there. “Can we speak in private?”
“It’s okay,” I insisted. “This is my brother,” I told him.
Then he gave it all to me.
Two bruised ribs.
A hairline fracture near my eye.
A broken nose.
A knocked-out molar.
A clavicle fracture.
And, of course, a concussion.
“At least you don’t need surgery, kid,” Cillian insisted when I grumbled about the doctor admitting me for the night. “Count our blessings, yeah?” he said, looking around my room, then giving my hand a squeeze.
“Yeah,” I agreed, trying to take a deep breath, then letting out a whimper at the pain that caused.
“How about I sneak some contraband in here?” he suggested. “What do you want?” he asked. “Might want to go with some soft stuff right now. That gum is going to be sore.”
“Pasta. From the good pasta place,” I said. “Nyx knows where. Is she here?”
“I’m sure she is,” he said, patting my leg. “Want me to send up while I run out?”
“Yes.”
I had to tell her it was okay.
Because if I knew Nyx, she was blaming herself.
For bringing me to Vegas, for not being home when I looked for her, for not being with me when I toured the area.
Sure enough, when she came up, her face was tear-stained and her eyes almost swollen as bad as mine felt.
“Oh, God,” she cried out when her gaze landed on me.
“It’s okay,” I insisted.
“It’s not okay! Oh, my God. Cillian said you’re okay. But you’re not o-fucking-kay.”
“I am,” I told her, reaching out my hand. “I’m okay. Cillian made them give me the good stuff,” I said, pointing to the little clicky thing that my pain medicine was hooked up to. “It looks worse than it is.”
“It looks really fucking bad.”
“Way to make me feel good,” I teased.
“I’m sorry. God, Dell, I am so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I should—“
“No. Stop. Neither of us could have seen this coming. And it’s over, okay? I only have to stay the night for observation. Tomorrow, we can head back to Shady Valley.”
“Where I can fuss over you day and night.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Really, I’m okay.”
“You’re so not okay. But you will be. We will all make sure of it,” she said, sitting off the side of my bed. “Since we’re alone, can I mention something?”
“Ah… sure,” I agreed, unsure about her change in tone.
“You can tell me to mind my business,” she added.
“O…kay?”
“There was a condom in the trash,” she said, wiggling her brows at me. “And I can’t help but wonder if the man pacing trademarks into the linoleum downstairs happened to have spent the night last night.”