Page 30 of Dubious Match
“I’m doing the best I can,” I sigh. Tears are starting to flow, and I hide it as I keep myself from voicing any of it. “I need seventy-two hours, Cian.”
“Do you need a doctor?”he asks. “Hollis, you sound like shit, and you’re the absolute worst at accepting any help. Who is that with you?”
“Brice Ledger,” I say. “In case I die, you can kill him.”
“Hey!” Brice says. “Hollis, I have the feeling whoever you’re talking to would fucking kill me and not blink. Don’t say shit like that.”
I can hear Cian as he chuckles, making it obvious he heard that.
“What are you doing with him? Is there something I need to know?”he asks.
“Later,” I say. “Okay?”
“Yes, later. Can I please send my doctor, Hollis?”
“I saw him before. I have medicine. It knocks me out though,” I explain. My sentences are short and choppy because I can’t get them out any other way.
“Fine,”he grumbles. “Seventy-two hours, Hollis.”
Cian hangs up with that, and I make a face as I drop my hand to my lap. It’s as if I don’t have the strength to hold it up anymore.
“Is he threatening you?” Brice asks worriedly.
My eye opens just enough to look at him before saying, “In his own way. He worries.”
“I’m glad to see others worry too,” he mutters. “What causes this to happen?”
“Stress, work, life,” I sigh. “They’re random and hurt.”
“I know you want to do everything by yourself, but why?” Brice asks, pulling into the parking lot of my apartments.
I’ll either call a ride-share to get to my car when I feel better or Cian will come kidnap me in his eagerness for me to talk to old mafia men who can’t contain their anxiety. Ugh.
“Too complicated,” I grit out.
What I mean is that it’s too much to explain when my brain is trying to fucking kill me. Between people like Cian and Aisling coming to speak to me about confidential things, my own clients, and my dark web research and side gigs, I don’t need anyone else in my office.
They’d just be a liability.
It’s why I’ve always worked alone. The neighborhood I bought my office space in has always been rough, but it’s slowly gotten better over the years. I have never been mugged, and I can usually scare off anyone who comes by who could be a problem.
The truth is, I’m just used to figuring things out. The curse of an independent person, I suppose. Aisling is the exact same way.
Her pack is well aware of this and does everything they can to ease her load. That’s the kind of pack I’d want if I was looking.
Brice parks the vehicle and comes around to my side of the car.
“Hollis,” he says gruffly, putting my phone in my bag and hitching it over his shoulder. I have to say that he looks really good wearing it. Better than Lars and Caleb even. “After listening to you talk to that guy Cian on the phone, it’s obvious that you work with dangerous men.”
Reaching over me, he unbuckles my seat belt and eases it over me. Carefully picking me up, he settles me in his arms before closing the vehicle door and locking it up. His long legs walk quickly toward the elevator, and he hits the button as he waits for it.
“Putting things together, I can see how you wouldn’t want someone in your space. Am I drawing the correct conclusion?” he asks. “Just nod. Don’t try to talk.”
Nodding, I close my eyes again as the elevator doors open. The lights in here are like the surface of the sun. It’s the only thing I hate about this building.
“Fuck, these lights,” he mutters, stepping inside. “Floor?”
“Twelve,” I reply. “You need the key card.”
