Page 107 of Hash

“Hey,” she says, her voice cracking with sleep.

“Hey, baby doll,” I say back as I sit on the edge of the bed, her knees curling around me. “You get something to eat?”

“Yeah. Evan brought up a cheeseboard.” She points to the half-eaten tray at the foot of the bed. “Did you get everything you needed to do done?”

I sigh as I rub my hand down my face, not wanting to talk about this with her now, but I know I need more answers.

“Holy shit,” Aisling exclaims as she bolts up in bed, her eyes widening. “What happened to your hand?”

Fuck.

I look down at my hand and I flex it, the bandage that Doc wrapped around it stretching with it.

“Went a few rounds with Cyrus’ bag.” Technically, it’s not a lie.

Aisling grabs my hand as she turns it around, examining it. “Do you usually hurt yourself like this when you work out with it? It was obviously pretty bad. Blood has soaked through.”

“I forgot to glove up.” I shrug, hoping she’ll drop it.

Aisling studies my face, doubt swirling in her eyes.

She doesn’t believe me.

“Are you okay?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

“I’m as okay as I can be right now. Don’t worry about me. I want you to focus on getting yourself better. Did you call Frankie? I think you should take a couple of days off.”

Aisling’s face falls slightly at my changing the topic, but she doesn’t question it.

“No,” she groans. “I’m dreading it, honestly. She’s going to freak out, and as much as I love her, I don’t want to deal with that right now.”

“The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you won’t have to deal with it. Sometimes, thinking about doing something is more stressful than actually doing what needs to be done.”

Aisling’s mouth presses into a thin line. “I don’t like the reasonable version of Hash.”

A loud laugh bursts out of me. “Sorry, baby doll. It doesn’t come out much, but sometimes things need to be said.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she grumbles.

I pull her in for a hug, pressing her against me until she rests the good side of her face on my shoulder.

“I hate to bring this up again. I know you said he was wearing a ski mask, but were there any other identifiable markings on him that you saw? Any tattoos visible or a certain type of clothing that stood out to you?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice even and not lose my fucking shit again.

Aisling hums quietly as she thinks it over. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry, babe. All I can remember is the black ski mask.”

Goddamnit.

“It’s okay.” I squeeze her side lightly. “We’ll find him.”

If it’s the last thing I do on this earth.

“I hope so,” she mumbles.

“If you’re feeling up to it, I’m going to have the guys and me go over to your place and clean it up if you want to come with us.”

Aisling is silent for a long moment. I almost thought she hadn’t heard me until she finally spoke. “I’m scared to go back there.”

“That’s why I want you to come with me. You won’t be alone.”