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Fiona’s wide, trusting eyes meet mine.
“I’m going to take ye to my place to see the doctor. Is that okay?”
She nods, a tear spilling over and leaving a dirty track down her smoke-stained cheek. Sniffing, Fiona wipes it away with the back of her good hand, still clutching the water bottle, and turns to the woman holding her left foot.
“Dawn. My locker. I have some clothes there.”
Christ. Fiona’s voice is raspy, and she winces as she speaks. Dawn nods, hurrying to the locker and opening it, pulling out a pair of sneakers, jeans, panties, a bra, a sweater, and two T-shirts.
Bringing them to us, she picks up Fiona’s purse, tucking the clothing in, before handing the thing to Seamus, along with the sneakers.
“I’m going to pick ye up now,leannán.”
Fiona blinks up at me, slowly nodding again. Slipping my hands beneath her knees and shoulders, I lift her bridal style and follow Seamus out to my SUV.
I cradle Fiona in my lap the five-minute drive home and carry her up to my condo when we arrive. Connor is already waiting with the doctor. Thank Christ.
I gently place Fiona on the leather couch, and Dr. Larsen sits on the footstool, carefully removing all the glass and debris from her feet, rubbing some cream over them, and bandaging them tightly. Fiona winces as he moves to her hand. Once that’s dressed too, he examines her eyes, mouth, and ears.
Sitting back, his eyes turn to Seamus. “There is some smoke inhalation. Keep her fluids up. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on her again. I think she’s in shock, so someone will need to stay with her.”
“That’s not going to be a problem, Doc,” I growl at him, matching his nod.
“I’ve given her some painkillers. There’s more on the counter. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Send me the bill, Doctor.” Seamus escorts him out as I sink onto the couch beside Fiona, gently lifting her into my lap.
“What happened,leannán?” I ask her softly. Seamus and Connor come to perch on the long footstool, their eyes glued to Fiona’s face.
“I woke up, and my bedroom wall was all on fire,” Fiona rasps, coughing and wincing. Jesus fuck. My heart stills in my chest, and I feel like my veins are filled with ice. How fucking close did I come tonight to losing her?
“Mrs. H-Holtman….” Her voice breaks, and her lower lip wobbles. “That was her bedroom. I think she’s d-dead.”
“How did you get to the club, lass?” Seamus asks, his voice soft as I stroke her hair soothingly.
She sniffs, resting her head against my shoulder. “A cab. He wouldn’t take my money.” Fiona strokes her fingers over the bandage on her palm. “My neighbor, I think his name is Paulie. He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the building and across the road. Then all the glass exploded, and it fell down. My apartment was in the bit that fell down.”
Fiona is definitely in shock, her eyes darting around, and I never want to fucking let her out of my sight again. Jesusfuck.
“Connor,” Seamus mutters. “I want you to find the cabbie and the neighbor. Also, find out if this Mrs. Holtman made it out.”
Connor nods, offering Fiona a gentle smile and me a nod as he leaves the apartment.
“We’ll sort the club and take care of the bills. You stay here with her,” Seamus tells me. Gratitude coursing through me, I nod to him as he also offers Fiona a gentle smile before leaving.
Once we’re alone, I lift Fiona and carry her to the bathroom. Sitting her on the closed toilet, I run the sink with warm water and gently strip off her T-shirt and panties.
“I’m just going to wash ye off,leannán.”
She nods, looking at me so trustingly my heart clenches in my chest. Sponging her off, I get all the smoke and soot off her, fetching one of my T-shirts and a pair of fitted cotton trunks.
Fiona sits still as I dress her, letting me move her to a stool. Tipping her head back over the basin, I gently wash her hair. It takes two washes until the water stops running black.
Wrapping her head in a towel, I carry her into the bedroom and set her down on the bed, crawling behind her to dry her hair and tucking her up in the blankets. Her skin is finally feeling less icy cold.
Fiona’s good hand shoots out and grasps the back of my shirt as I move off the bed to hang up the towel.
“Don’t leave me, Ronan,” she says in a small voice. Christ. It tears at my heart.
