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“Well you don’t get any meds then.” I arch an eyebrow at him.
“I’m in pain!” he snaps.
“Do you want me to get Shane in here to force you to eat?” I challenge him.
At that, Liam looks around the room. “Where is Shane?” he frowns.
Conor clears his throat and we all look at him. “He’s gone to Chicago,” he says almost apologetically.
“Chicago?” Mikey says with a frown. “Why?”
“He needs to smooth some things over with a few of our business associates, given that we took out the head of the Bratva and all.”
“But he just took off without telling any of us?” Mikey’s frown turns to a scowl now as a knot of anxiety forms in the pit of my stomach. Did Shane leave because of me? I feel so guilty already for turning him away. He needed me and I wasn’t there for him.
Conor glances at me and the look in his eyes tells me he knows. Did he and Shane talk about what happened last night? I drop my head so he doesn’t see the tears in my eyes.
“I’m going to make you a piece of toast, Liam,” I say without making eye contact with any of them, and then I walk out of the bedroom and make my way to the kitchen. I’ve only just left the room when I hear soft footsteps behind me, and I turn around to see Conor following me.
“You okay, Angel?” he asks as he catches up with me and slides an arm around my waist.
“Yeah,” I say as I wipe the tears from my eyes.
“He just had something to take care of, that’s all,” he says softly, reading my mind the way that he can.
“I understand,” I say with a nod. I don’t want to talk about what happened between us last night. “But he didn’t say goodbye to any of us.”
Conor reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his cell phone, unlocking it with his fingerprint. “Here. Call him.”
I shake my head. “He won’t want to speak to me.”
“You won’t know that unless you call him,” he checks his watch. “You’d better hurry though. His plane takes off in ten minutes.”
I take the phone from Conor’s hand. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll go make a start on Liam’s toast,” he says with a wink, and I watch him walk down the hallway.
My fingers tremble as I dial Shane’s number and wait for him to pick up.
“Hey, Con. What’s up?” he says when he answers and he sounds so sad that my heart hurts.
“It’s me,” I say. “Conor gave me his phone to call you.”
“Oh. What is it, Jessie?” he snaps, the coldness in his tone now.
“I just wanted to…” Damn! What do I want? To tell him that I’m sorry he thought he had to leave? That I’m sorry I didn’t spend the night in his bed. But I’m not. That was the right thing for both of us, even if he doesn’t see that.
“Wanted to what?” he asks, his voice softer now, but then I hear another voice in the background. A distinctive, female Irish voice. Damn Erin! Always waiting in the wings to pounce as soon as I step a foot out of line. Damn Shane too! Running to her just because I hurt his pride. Asshole!
“I didn’t realize Erin was with you?” I say, willing him to tell me that I’m mistaken and that it’s a stewardess who sounds exactly like her.
“There are some contracts I need her help with,” he replies in that gravelly tone that usually makes my legs turn to jelly.
“Well, I hope the two of you have a pleasant trip. Looks like you’ll get that itch scratched after all?” I snap.
“Bye, Jessie,” he practically snarls the words.
I don’t reply. I end the call and shake my head. I am a complete fool for feeling even an ounce of guilt for not being there when I thought he needed me. I take a deep breath and pull my shoulders back before I go to the kitchen and have to face Conor because I don’t want him to see how much his asshole older brother has got to me. Shane Ryan can go to hell for all I care.
