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"So did I," I admitted, and I’d been running ever since. Or, hobbling, I guessed, was more appropriate. Rubbing my bottom lip with my thumb, I asked, "This is going to get intense, Savannah. I overheard a lot of your conversation with Star. You need to prepare yourself for the fallout."
"Will you have my back whatever happens?" she asked, her eyes meeting mine with a calm that sank into my bones.
"Of course."
"Will you stop anyone from killing me?"
"Now I know you’re in danger."
"Well, then—" She paused. "You hadn’t heard about my exposés?"
"No. Not until you went flying down the stairs. I’ve been keeping away from the business."
Her brow furrowed. "I didn’t think you’d be able to do that."
"My brothers shielded me from the worst."
"You’re lucky," she said dryly. "Mine wouldn’t."
Iwaslucky. I guessed that I knew that, but it resonated more when she looked at me with envy.
"You ever been to a war zone?"
"The nearest I got to one was a Macy’s on Black Friday," she joked.
My nose crinkled. "Okay, that example won’t work then."
"No, I was teasing. Tell me what you wanted to say."
"Brothers-in-arms." I blew out a breath. "They’re not just siblings to me, you know? We’re in a war zone together. Nobody gets that but them."
Eyes wide, she asked, "You’re not talking about with the other factions, are you?"
I shook my head. "Whether it’s the Italians or the Russians or the fucking Haitians, we’re always at someone’s throats. In this instance, I just mean being an O’Donnelly. It’s a war. A constant fucking battle." Tension clawed at me. "I can deal with it. I’ve always found it easy to compartmentalize my life, but things have been difficult ever since..." I broke off, gesturing at my knee.
"It makes sense," she told me softly. "The pain, the addiction... they’re bound to add a lot of pressure to an already intense situation."
That she got it resonated on a soul-deep level.
"I’ve never really talked about this shit with anyone. Not even my brothers."
"Well, we’ve already established that we’re weird together, haven’t we?"
I laughed a little as I snagged her hand in mine. "We have."
"You ever think that sometimes shit just works out how it’s supposed to work out?" She tangled our fingers together as she took a seat beside me. The bed jostled and I winced as it jarred my knee.
Voice rough with pain, I muttered, "No, it’s not in me to dream like that. I live in the real world, and it’s nasty and cruel. I’d like to think that way, though."
She fell silent, before, on a sigh, she asked, "Question, but don’t shoot?"
"I already promised I wouldn’t let anyone kill you, so I don’t see why I should be the one to break that promise."
"Reassuring," she grumbled under her breath. "When was the last time you went to the doctor’s about your knee? Not just for pain management?"
Chin tipping upward, I admitted, "Too long ago."
"Maybe there’s an advancement... something they can do to make it better?"
