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She sighed.
“But I don’t want to loseus.”
Pulse immediately picking up, he tugged her back. Away from the door—and the exit from his life—and back into his hold. “Good,” he whispered when she spun in his arms, wrapping her own around his waist, holding him as held her. “Good, sweetheart.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“And so fuckingembarrassed.” Her head hit his chest.
“I know.”
“And I don’t know how I’m going to look anyone in the eye again.”
“I know, baby.”
“And—” She broke off, forehead lifting off his chest. “Crap.”
“What?”
She shook her head slightly. “Aunt Pat is talking to me.”
That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say, and he probably shouldn’t be smiling at a time like this, not after everything that had gone down. “What’s she saying?”
Her lips turned up. “To stop being stupid.”
He chuckled. “That good, huh?”
“She’s not one to beat around the bush.”
Connor had gotten a glimpse of her brusqueness at the party. That one took absolutely no shit. “I’m getting that.”
“And…” She nibbled at her bottom lip, eyes sliding away then back to his. “They’re not going to care, are they?”
They, he knew, meant their coworkers.
The ones who’d had her back today, who would continue doing that.
Because Raven was a good doctor and a good coworker and…a good human.
They’d seen enough to understand exactly what shit her mother had been trying to pull, and they’d seen enough manipulative addicts to know it was the drugs talking, the need tearing them apart, and yeah, Sylvia Montergo had enough inner bitch to eliminate any sympathy they might have normally had.
Because they’d seen enough people to know when it was a good person ravaged by a disease…just like they could deduce a shit person with a rotten soul.
He didn’t need to see the cigarette burns on Raven’s legs to know her mother was evil.
It was obviously displayed in her cold, calculating eyes.
“No one in this department—patient or employee—would dare to think this was your fault.”
She exhaled.
Fingers weaving into her hair, tilting her head up, making it so that her eyes were on his. “No one thinks this is on you.”
“Cindy got hurt,” she whispered.
“That’s not your fault.”
