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“Should I send Leah to Georgie?”
“Not yet. She’s resting.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you to it.” She went out, closing the door behind her.
“Have a seat, lad.” Brandon seemed about to argue, so Ryan sat down on the couch, indicating for Brandon to take a seat on the couch opposite. He sat, folded his hands in his lap and took a few deep, calming breaths. Ryan surveyed him. From everything he could tell, Brandon looked clean. His eyes were clear, he wasn’t jittery. He returned Ryan’s look with an open gaze. “Where have you been?”
“India.”
“And what were you about there?”
“Meditating.”
“I see.”
“Are you with Georgie?”
“No. We’re just friends.”
“What happened to her?”
Ryan took a deep breath. How did you tell a man everything he had to tell Brandon? Bluntly. There was no way he could skirt around it. “She was involved in a building collapse. She was pretty banged up. Lots of broken bones. Damaged organs. Surgeries. I’m a doctor, so I’ve got a fair idea of what she’s gone through. I won’t lie to you, lad, it seems to me that it’s a miracle she’s alive.”
“She was always a fighter,” Brandon said quietly, his voice thick. “Will she see me?”
“She will, aye. But I need you to know something else before you go to her.”
“What’s that?”
“She thought you were dead, as you heard.”
“I don’t know why she—”
Ryan held his hand up, stopping him. “I’ll let her tell you all about that. But I will tell you this much. Because she thought you’d died from a drug overdose, she won’t take drugs of any kind. No pain relief. At all. So she’s walking around with a busted hip, in desperate need of surgery, in agony all the live long day. And she won’t take so much as a Nurofen for it.” He watched the emotion storm into Brandon’s eyes. Satisfied, he continued, “Added to that, she can’t have the surgery she needs because she feels she can’t take the drugs they’d give her to help her recover.”
“I understand.”
“I see that you do. So you’ll sort her out?”
“Fucking oath I will.”
“Good lad. But go easy. She’s strong, I know, but also very fragile.”
Brandon nodded and pushed to his feet. “I can go now?”
“You can go now.” Ryan led the way out of the house and pointed Brandon towards the track and Georgie.
* * *
When Ryan left, Georgie tried to lie down on his bed, but she was in turmoil. Overwhelmed, exhausted, sick. She lay there for a while trying to control her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Okay. She was okay. She wasn’t going to throw up. Needing some air, she got up, picked up her cane and limped outside. She walked down the track to the low stone wall and breathed deeply of the salty air. Brandon. Alive. She’d held onto that sliver of hope for what felt like an eternity and now it was rewarded. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. Where the fuck had he been? She’d probably start with that. And then absolutely lose her mind because of what he’d done to her. And then make sure he got into drug rehab. Because fuck knows, she was not prepared to go through this again.
Hearing footsteps on the path she turned and her heart squeezed hard. So hard she lost her breath. There he was. Tall. Lanky. Blond. Hands in the pocket of his jeans as he walked towards her. Then he was in front of her. Within reach. With a bright red mark on his cheek. She reached out and ran her fingers over it. “I’m sorry I slapped you.”
“It’s okay.” His voice was husky. His azure eyes roved over her face. “George…”
Her name was an endearment on his lips. “Bran…” She burst into tears. He pulled her against him, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight while she sobbed. She couldn’t stop. All the tears she hadn’t shed for him because the grief had nowhere to go. They hit her all at once. She cried and cried and cried. And he never let her go. As the crying finally subsided, she held onto him for a long moment. He smelled wonderfully familiar.
“I don’t know why you thought I was dead. I told you what I was doing,” he said when she pulled away, moving to sit on the stone wall and stretching her leg out.
