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The dilemma had me wondering if Finn, one of our family friends and the Points’ money man, was feeling the same way about his kid.
His wife had just had a baby, well, a while back, and I had to wonder if he thought about his son doing the shit we did.
“You’re not angry.”
The simple statement had me blinking at the opening in the ward. It was odd because it was a make-shift door with plastic sheets that were Velcroed together, so the sound of the ripping should have dragged me from my thoughts. It hadn’t.
Maybe the drugsweredulling everything.
I stared at my brother, Eoghan, and shook my head. “I will be. Just give me time.”
But he didn’t smirk at me.
He just stared at me.
Christ.
Brennan and Eoghan always saw too much.
I felt like a petri dish with the way they were both gawking at me, and I scowled at them. “What do you want me to do? Go full out Hulk on you?”
Brennan shrugged. “I think that was what I anticipated.”
“Did the doctors say he woke up too early?” Eoghan asked Brennan, pissing me off that they were talking around me, not to me.
I heaved an irritated breath. “Look, I’m tired. I need to rest.”
I didn’t.
I felt wide awake.
I was definitely more mellow than I should be, definitely a lot more chilled about this situation… yeah, had to be the drugs.
Eoghan grunted. “Stay awake for a little bit longer. Ma’s on her way. She was shitting herself.”
“Not literally, I hope,” I rumbled, trying to tease and failing.
Brennan and Eoghan didn’t crack a smile—serious fuckers. “Jesus, where’s Conor? At least he’ll laugh at my crappy jokes.”
“He’s asleep in the waiting room. We’re all exhausted because we’ve been here for two goddamn days watching over you.”
My mouth turned down. “Yeah. I get it.”
“No. I don’t think you do,” Brennan retorted.
I gritted my teeth before I muttered, “Move the pillows out from behind my head. This position hurts.”
Eoghan moved toward me and helped shuffle out the two pillows a nurse had stacked under my shoulders when I’d woken up and found Brennan sitting at my bedside.
The instant relief was enough to make me sigh heavily. I allowed myself to rock back and let my muscles settle.
“I’m just going to rest my eyes,” I mumbled, suddenly needing the peace of sleep and a spare moment to stop the buzzing in my head that had nothing to do with almost being shot, blood loss, drugs, or the aftereffects of emergency surgery.
A low hum of conversation came next, and I heard the Velcro softly open and close as they left me to the nightmare ward.
I rocked my head to the side, saw the partition between me and the other guy, Ink, the man we’d gone in to save, and saw he was out cold.
Then again, he’d been tortured. I figured it probably wasn’t the first time, judging by all the scars I could see on the parts of his body that weren’t covered up with tape, gauze, and wires, but still, torture always took it out of a person.
I pursed my lips, rolled my head up to the ceiling where those godawful surgical lights were blaring onto me, and even though it hurt, I reached up and covered my eyes with my forearm.
I needed to reassimilate things. Needed to figure out what the hell I was thinking and feeling.
I was a father.
I had a son.
That changed everything.
I just didn’t know how yet.
