Page 30 of Sip
She wiggles against me. I don’t want to let her go. My brave girl doesn’t give up, struggling for me to release her. Relenting kills me, but we check on him on my terms. I lift her off the black wood and drop to my haunches, to roll up the hem of her pants since I have more time. Once the fabric’s raised enough for her to walk without tripping, I lead with her behind me, back to the entryway. The guys have Shane up his feet, and he’s arguing against needing medical treatment despite the fact he can’t walk unsupported, and he has to hold his own chin in place.
Well aware it’s not her place to get in the middle of the fray, she strains in my hold to get closer to him.
“Please Shane let them help you.”
He turns away from her voice. Disrespectful of her and her pleas, he shuffles toward his office. I’d break his jaw if it wasn’t already broken for treating her like garbage again. I release her hand and turn around. Ready to reiterate what an asshole he is, when she brushes past me to get to him. Only to have the door slammed behind him as the guys drag him inside. Not quite in her face but close enough.
I’ll give my girl credit though. She rebounds without a word and walks with her head held high to the chair by the hutch. Just like the princess she is, she sits down gracefully and clasps her shaking hands together, tucking them between her thighs. “What’re you doing?”
A deep frown lines her glorious face. Surprise rather than fear from my accusing snarl draws down her expression.
“I’m waiting in case he needs me.”
I need her to stop keeping vigil over a man who doesn’t love her. Doesn’t deserve her. Doesn’t want her.
This time I’m the one crashing into shit. I shove the door open and barge into his office. Shane sprawls on the couch with his eyes shut, while the guys talk in low tones to each other by the fireplace. I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “Out.”
They glance at each other, not used to taking orders from me. Hell, I’m not used to giving them but I’m getting used to it. And, I don’t think that feeling is going to change any time soon. “Find Ansel and bring Dr. Griffin in when he gets here.”
Silent yet compliant, they stride out not looking back. I catch Grace peeking in, her attention on her husband. “Give me just a second.”
With all the patience I can generate, I slowly push the door until the latch clicks. Now I can lay into my brother. “Not that you deserve it, but she only wants to help. Don’t be a dick to her.”
The injury garbles his response, but I decipher from his mumbling he doesn’t want her in here. “I don’t want her in here either but unlike us she has a heart and cares about people including assholes like you.”
Pretty sure he told me to fuck off. Which I want to more than he knows. Storm out of this room, gather her up, and keep her forever. Instead, I yank out my phone buzzing with updates. The guys have been able to rouse Ansel, and the physician is about five minutes out. Kipras and the bastard who attacked Grace are in cells in the dungeon. A fire is being started in the pit for the rest of the bodies.
Shane doesn’t answer after I apprise him of all the guys have accomplished already. Ungrateful fucker. “She doesn’t know Kipras wanted her. It needs to stay that way so she doesn’t get even more scared that she already is.”
He grunts. I check myself from his lack of fucks for her and her feelings. After us losing our other sister to an enemy you’d think he’d be more sympathetic. Since he’s never cared about her and nothing has changed to make him care, I shouldn’t expect otherwise. Which is better for her and for me. His apathy is the key to me taking her from him. Having her to myself. Making her mine.
A forceful pound on the door signals the doctor rather than Grace. “Come in.”
The man hustles in straight to my brother while I drop down into the chair to let him work. I’m sure as hell not going to hover over either of them. I amuse myself planning the prisoners’ torture. The tough choice is who to start with so the other hears. That’s always the best part— them making themselves sick from the anticipation of what’s to come. I should do Kipras first. He only thought of my pixie angel. The other one touched her. He has a long painful day ahead of him.
“Nothing I can do about the cracked ribs but I’ve set his jaw. It’s bruised but not broken. The swelling should be gone in a few days if he takes these and doesn’t talk.”
Doc sets two bottles on the desk. Looks like pain killers and anti-inflammatory. Neither of which Shane will probably take. Not my problem. “Ansel’s in the living room. Gunshot graze and concussion.”
Unfazed with my diagnosis, the physician nods and departs quickly. He knows why he’s here and doesn’t require any direction or discussion.
Grace steps into the open doorway, eager to come in. Yet, like the good girl she is, waits for approval to enter. As much as I hate it, I motion for her to cross the threshold. She won’t relax until she sees for herself he’s okay. Although I can’t fathom why, she wants to take care of him. He’ll hate her concern so at least he’ll be miserable too while she tends to him.
She comes to me first, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I revel in her choosing me. Her petite hand squeezes mine.
“Thank you, Killian.”
Barely a whisper as not to disturb the idiot patient. I kiss her forehead, letting her have at it for awhile. “I’ll be back later for you.”
I earn a soft smile and little nod before she turns her attention to the pill bottles. I let her play nurse since I have my own anesthesia free surgery to perform. I already know though that my patients won’t survive.
After a quick shower to wash away their blood and vomit, I hustle downstairs to Shane’s office. Moonlight shines through the tall windows across the sparkling clean tile in the foyer. I guess Mrs. Gunderson and her team were busy all day too.
Even more perfect than the fading sunset, Grace sits on the floor next to where Shane dozes. She’s out too, her head leaning on the cushion near his elbow. Despite how peaceful she looks, enough is enough. I checked on her throughout the night, watching as she covered him with a blanket, helped him sip water for his pills, adjusted pillows under his side to support his damaged body. An angel as always that he never appreciates.
I scoop her up and she starts from the movement. Until her gaze meets mine and she droops against me. I press a kiss to her forehead and carry her to my room, anyone looking be damned. She snuggles in as soon as I lay her on the mattress, and I slide in right behind her. Spooning I think it’s called. Whatever the name, her tucked against me is heaven on earth.
“Killian, we shouldn’t–”
