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I ignore the protective caveman she’s referring to, softly snoring in the wingback underneath his blankie with his gray cat, Moses, sleeping on his shoulder.
The job here in San Diego is now officially finished, but we needed some mending time.
I’m surprised Slade hasn’t woken up. I guess he’s completely knackered from watching over Phoenix as a man possessed for the past four days.
Phoenix Cooper and Slade Malone have an ‘inevitable’ relationship. The big guy has it bad for Sweetness, which is old news, and Sweetness has the hots for the big guy, but they are stuck in theirTwilight Zone,so we simply wait for the inevitable to happen.
I walk around the king-sized bed, gingerly making myself at home on top of the covers without an invitation. I’m careful not to jostle the patient too much, leaning back against the headboard, crossing one denim-clad ankle over the other, my polished Doc Martens pointing toward the ceiling.
I roll my head to the side. “Yo, Sweetness”—I lower my tone when she glares at me in silent warning—“how are you feeling?” She’s convalescing after a run-in with a bullet.
Bullet went straight through her, above her left hip bone, missing all the good stuff. She was lucky, hence why she rationalizes it as just a scratch. If the bullet had hit her more to the left, the damage would have been a lot worse.
“I’m great.Juuust… Great,” Phoenix deadpans.
We couldn’t take her to a hospital because of the sensitivity of our job. Slade organized for her to get moved to Doc Sullivan’s offices, the doc who tended to Ophelia in December. Then we swapped out Doc Sullivan for Doc Fernando once we no longer needed a stocked medical office. Doc Sullivan is on the up and up. We didn’t want to use him any more than necessary. We dodged enough of his questions for him to realize he was better off not seeking answers. Doc Fernando, although retired, is the father of Boxer’s woman, and we didn’t need to hide anything from him. He took her off the IV antibiotic cocktail this morning.
And now here we are with Phoenix on enforced bed rest, and from the grumpy look on her face, the lady doesn’t want to play ball anymore.
I’m surprised my feisty friend has stayed locked down under Slade’s roof this long.
I’m figuring on her being desperate if she’s called me in to lend an ear, so this should be good.
“Do I detect a pout on those luscious lips of yours?” I cock my head to the side, knowing it will get a rise out of her. She’s one of the coolest chicks I know. A pout generally gets reserved for spoilt rotten girls who don’t get their way, and Phoenix is no spoilt female.
“Will you knock it off for five seconds!” she whisper-growls in frustration while a deep frown furrows her forehead, “I need your help.”
Why do I suddenly feel like I am going to be a scapegoat?
It sounds serious. Time to behave accordingly. “Well, Sweetness, I’m all yours.” I’m inwardly preening my feathers, feeling super cocky that Phoenix wants my help and not the snoring man-mountain slumped in the wingback chair. “Do you need help with going to the potty?”What? I can’t help myself.
She starts rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand and murmurs, “WhyohwhyamIgonnaaskthiscockyassholeforhelp?”
My cocky side shrugs at my sensible side.What can I say? I like to stir her up. She bites every time.
Phoenix has formed an impression of me ever since she first met me on Black Friday, so I let her roll with it. I keep up the pretense of behaving the only way she understands me.
Cocky.
“Sorry, Sweetness. I’ll behave.”My sensible side is raising his head and pumping his fist in victory.“Well… let’s hear it?” I add an exaggerated sigh. “What cockamamie idea have you got up your sleeve you think I am going to agree to?”
“I want you to help me get out of here,” she whispers. “You can get me back to my roommate’s place while the behemoth hibernates because I know only the two of you are here, andhecertainly isn’t going to help me.”
Not. Happening.
“Let’s not get hasty. The big man will pitch a fit.” Plus, they can work this shit out themselves.
She growls at me.
My lips twitch.
She narrows her eyes in determination as though to intimidate me with a staring match.
Oh,paleease.
I take a moment to admire her determination by not replying. What can I say? It’s an art behaving like this with Phoenix.
I cross my arms, careful of the stitches from the gashes I incurred four days ago.
