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“You shouldn’t have got anything on.” I follow his path as he hobbles past. “Nolan,” I call. “Get your ass home.”
“I’m fine.”
I look at Mason, astounded. He shrugs and gets back to counting the float. From Ella’s expression, I can tell she’s had this row with him. I’m ignoring the fact that feelings are involved if she’s insisting on him resting. For fuck’s sake. I go after Nolan, trailing him into the office. “And what the fuck do you think you’re going to do here?”
“Work.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know. Something.”
“Nolan, I said?—”
“I’m fine!” he yells, wobbling on his crutches, nearly putting himself on his ass.
I withdraw, shocked, and he starts breathing through his nose, obviously trying to cool himself down. He looks . . . really fucking troubled. What happened has really got to him. “It’s all part of the job,” I say, giving him space rather than getting up in his face, giving him soft rather than the usual tough love. He looks like he’d break if I let loose on him.
“I know.”
“But if you want out . . .” He’d be a great loss, but I can’t have fairies around, crying over a few flying bullets and a hit-and-run.
His eyes widen. “No, I don’t want out. Never.” He drops into a chair.
“Then get your shit together, boy.”
“I’m fine.” His face bunches, his hand going to his thigh.
“As you keep saying. What has Doc said?”
He looks up through his lashes at me. “He said I’m fine.”
For fuck’s sake. “How did you get here?”
“Taxi.”
“On your own?”
“No, with a taxi driver.”
Oh, he’s pushing it. I go to him, taking his arm and manhandling him back out of the office, his crutches flapping around as he tries to fight me.
“Brad, leave me here, I can’t sit around at home in bed. It’s driving me insane.”
“Mason,” I yell as I enter the club, reaching into my pocket for my keys and tossing them to him when he looks up. He catches them with one quick hand. “Take this dipshit to the boatyard.” I thrust Nolan toward a stool. “Sit.” He does. Fast. “There’s fuck all point you being here, so if you insist that you don’t want to lie around the house, you can go play shop at the yard.” Fury appears. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He shrugs.
“For fuck’s sake.” But I can’t bitch. I wouldn’t want Danny out on his own at the moment. I put my hand out to Mason, who passes my keys promptly. I throw them to Fury. “Take Nolan to the boatyard.”
“But—”
“Danny’s picking me up now.” So Fury doesn’t need to worry about my well-being. I leave them behind, calling Leon. “Fury’s bringing Nolan to the boatyard. Put him at the cash register in the store.”
“Sure, B-Boss.”
I hang up and leave the club, lighting up outside, looking up and down the street for them. No sign. “Fucking headache,” I mutter, glancing at my phone when it dings.
Morning.
