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“My parents have a couple of extra keys to his place,” Tony said. “I’ll call them and tell them you’ll be by to pick one up.”
“Sure thing. Just text me the address.”
After I hung up with Tony, I sat in my car for a few minutes, trying to calm down. Marco was fine. He was alive. Just hurt. And I was going to make sure he did everything he was supposed to do, even if I had to handcuff him to his bed. And then, of course, my brain went there because I apparently couldn’t help myself. “Idiot,” I murmured to myself.
22
Marco
Tony’s SUV went over yet another bump in the road, and I gritted my teeth against the pain. I must have made some noise anyway because Michael smoothed his hand over my forehead and said, “We’re almost there.”
My whole body was lit up with pain, and I couldn’t decide which was worse, the bullet wound or the headache. When we passed by a particularly bright pair of headlights, I concluded the headache was worse. “Tony, if you don’t want me to puke in your nice car, you need to quit hitting those bumps.”
“I’m working on it,” Tony said.
Speaking of cars. “Hey, who has my Charger?”
“Gabe is right behind us with your precious car,” Tony sighed.
The way he said it made me think I’d already asked him that question more than once. I said quietly to Michael, “I asked him that already, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “Try to relax. We’ll have you home in a few minutes.”
“No hospital,” I said.
“No hospital,” Michael repeated.
I knew my brothers didn’t understand my hatred of hospitals. The last time I was admitted to one was after the ambush that ended Terry’s career. I was laid up, and they wouldn’t tell me anything about his injuries because I wasn’t related to him. I almost got myself thrown in the brig because I lost my shit at a doctor. Finally, Gabe got me enough information to let me know that Terry was going to make it. Then all I wanted to do was get out of that damn bed so I could go see the man I loved. Now, every time I went into a hospital, I got an itch under my skin and couldn’t wait to leave—with one notable exception.
The car finally came to a stop and Tony turned off the engine. He turned around in his seat and said, “Wait there until Gabe comes around to help you out of the car.”
I tried to scoff and say I could get myself out of the car, but just making the noise set my head throbbing and my ears ringing. “Yeah, okay,” I murmured.
The door next to me opened and Michael unbuckled my seatbelt. Gabe was right there, easing his arm around me as I moved my leg to step out of the car. My legs wobbled when my feet hit the ground and my ankle tried to give out on me. Gabe tightened his hold on me. “Easy there, Chief. I’ve got you.” I hated feeling so helpless, but I couldn’t get my body to move the way I wanted it to.
Tony came over to my other side and the three of us slowly made our way to my front door. The door opened before we got there, and I swore I saw Liam standing there waiting for us. But that couldn’t be right. “I must be seeing things,” I muttered.
“What do you mean?” Tony asked.
“I thought I saw Liam standing in the doorway.” I looked up. “Yep, still there.”
Tony made a sound of exasperation. “Heisthere. I asked him to come over to keep an eye on you since your dumb ass won’t go to a hospital.”
“Oh.” I felt…happy? Relieved? I wasn’t sure. Liam being here seemed to settle something in me.
Liam came out onto the porch and held open the storm door for us. As we passed by, he said, “I turned down the covers on his bed. If you get him into sleep pants and a T-shirt, I’ll bring up ibuprofen and an ice pack for his ankle.”
I thought about saying something about not needing sleep pants around him, but then I stumbled on a step and the pain drove everything else out of my mind. By the time Tony and Gabe got me to my bedroom, I was a sweaty mess and my entire body was screaming in pain.
Tony and Gabe were surprisingly gentle about getting my clothes and boots off. I really wanted a shower, but I could hardly sit up, never mind stand in the shower. By the time they got me situated on the bed, I could barely keep my eyes open. Someone turned off the overhead light and turned on the lamp on my nightstand instead, and I sighed with relief. I heard the low murmur of voices and focused on the lighter cadence of Liam’s. His voice was calm and steady. Just hearing him soothed something in me.
The voices went away, and I felt a cool hand on my forehead. I opened my eyes to see Liam smiling down at me. “How’s your head?” he asked.
“Hurts,” I croaked.
“I’ll bet it does.” He moved his hand and replaced it with a cool, wet cloth. The relief was instantaneous. “I’m going to check the wound on your arm, okay?”
“The medic stitched it up already,” I said as he gently removed the bandage from my right upper arm.
