Page 47 of Dublin Beast

The table has chairs on one side and a bench along the back. I slide onto the end of the bench and it feels so good to get off my feet.

Fiona stands at the small kitchenette, preparing a tray. She glances over her shoulder and smiles when she sees me. “Feeling a bit more human?”

I nod, though I’m not sure that’s entirely true. I still feel like I’ve been run over, but at least I’m upright.

That’s progress.

She carries the tray over to the table and sets it down in front of me. “We’ll start you off with this and see how you do.” She slides a cup of peppermint tea toward me, steam curling from the surface, then places a plate of dry toast beside it. “Nothing fancy, but it should be gentle on your stomach.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, wrapping my fingers around the warm mug. The first sip soothes the rawness in my throat, and I close my eyes for a moment, letting the heat seep into me.

I manage a few bites of toast before glancing up at her. “How long am I going to feel like cat hack?”

She chuckles, sitting down across from me. “You should be over the worst of it. The injection cocktail I gave you last night will counter the ill effects. I’ll give you another shot once you’ve finished your breakfast, and you’ll be well on your way.”

I frown, setting my toast down. “You gave me a shot?”

Fiona nods, completely unbothered. “You were in rough shape, luv. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

I blink, trying to recall anything from last night. There’s nothing but fog and flashes of Bryan—his steady hands, his low voice promising I was safe.

“Your boyfriend did all the right things, though,” she adds.

I nearly choke on my tea. “Bryan isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just a friend.”

Fiona raises a brow, a knowing glint in her warm brown eyes. “That so?”

“Yes.” I scowl at my toast, refusing to meet her gaze. “He’s just—he’s helping me. That’s all.”

She hums like she doesn’t quite believe me, then goes back to tidying at the counter.

I eat in silence and focus on every chew and swallow. It’s not pleasant but it’s necessary. When I’m finished my toast, I wipe my fingers on a napkin and sip down the last of my tea.

“How is the nausea?” she asks.

“No worse. Just kind of there.”

“Well, that’s a good sign. All right, up you get, then. Let’s get that second injection sorted.”

I hesitate, my knee-jerk reaction to getting a needle both violent and undeserved. “What’s in this cocktail you mentioned?”

She smiles. “It’s just a pick-me-up boost. A pain reliever for the aches, something to help with the nausea, and a high dose of vitamins to help you get back on your feet as quickly as possible.”

“And I already had one?”

“You did.”

“Where does it go?”

“In your tush, hon. Last night was your right cheek. This one will go in your left.”

Of course, it will.

I reach back to my right butt cheek and yep, there’s a tender spot. So, she’s telling the truth and it obviously didn’t kill me. In truth, I feel heaps better than I did last night.

In the back of my mind, I sort of remember Bryan saying that he had a nurse draw my blood so we could find out what Jamie and his friends injected me with.

I don’t know if I trust her…but I trust Bryan.

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