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“My guess?” Willa asked. “A fight between her and Dylan.”
“About what?” Duke asked. “He’s been gone for weeks. I didn’t expect her home until well after her curfew.”
“I’ll see if I can pry it out of her tomorrow,” Willa said as she got up from her chair. “Anyone need anything? Coffee? I have decaf.”
“I’m good,” I said.
“Same,” Viper proclaimed.
“I’ll load the dishwasher,” Duke said, placing his hand on Willa’s arm. “Sit.”
She peered at him. “You’re not taking a play from Slash’s playbook, are you?”
Duke grinned. “Maybe. Relax. I’ve got this.”
“I’d offer to help too,” Savage said. “But I just had my spleen out.”
Willa went over to him and flicked his ear.
“Stop doing that.” Savage batted her hand away.
“You like the torture—admit it,” Willa said.
“I’ll put up with it since you take good care of me,” he joked.
She leaned down and hugged him. “You need anything?”
“Maybe a dose of my pain meds.”
“You got it.” She headed into the kitchen, leaving the three of us alone.
“You guys might want to get out of here. Once those things hit my system, I crash.”
“I’m glad to see you’re in good spirits,” I said to him. “You had us all pretty worried.”
“Better you were worried about me than Duke. I’d rather be the one laid up.”
“I’d rather have neither of you laid up,” Willa said as she came back into the living room with a glass of water and two of his pills.
“I told you I’d do anything to make sure Duke got home safe.” Savage took the pills and the glass of water from her.
“You more than delivered,” she said quietly.
He threw back the painkillers and drank half the glass of water. He leaned over and set it on the coffee table, wincing as he did.
Savage looked up at Willa and his expression softened. “You don’t have to cry over me.”
“I’m not.” She hastily wiped her eyes and took a shaky breath.
“No?” He raised his brows. “So, I took a bullet for your husband. Does that mean you’ll finally name your kid after me?”
Chapter50
“You’re quiet,”Viper said on the drive home. He reached over from the passenger side and set his hand on my leg.
“I feel like a shit,” I admitted.
“About what?”
