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Ciarán chuckles. “Guy like me needs a few cops in his pocket, Tinks.”
She huffs out a breath, and my chest tightens as we navigate the sterile hospital halls, each step more painful than the last.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Summer asks as we reach the entrance.
“Never more sure,” I grit out.
“You look like hell.”
“Feel worse, but I’m not sitting in that bed waiting to be stabbed to death, or injected with air, or whatever.”
“Okay, I get that.”
“Any ideas?” Ciarán asks as we head out into the dark night. Looks like a few hours was a bit more.
“Fucked if I know,” I growl, my mind racing in search of answers. The pain flares up with each step, almost bringing me to my knees.
“We need names. People who’d want you dead.”
“Slow down,” Summer pleads, her eyes filled with concern. “Cathal’s hurt, and we don’t want to—“
“Damn it, Summer!” I snap, anger and frustration boiling over. “I don’t have time for this shit. I need to find out who did this before they try again!”
“Whoa,” Ciarán snarls, coming to her defense. “Don’t be a dick to her. She’s trying to help. We’ll work on it, but we need to get you home first. One thing at a time.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, feeling a knob.
“It’s okay.” She forgives me too easily, but it makes me love her even more. Love. Is that what I feel? I don’t even know anymore.
“There’s no escaping whoever tried to kill me.”
“We get it, but right now. We are out in the open arguing about it. So let’s get in the car and fuck off, yeah?”
We stare at it for a few moments after Ciarán unlocks it with the remote locking.
“We checked it earlier,” Ciarán mutters when nothing happens. “But I guess I’d better do it again.”
Ciarán checks it over and gives the all-clear for explosives under the vehicle.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, clutching at my side as Ciarán eases me into the passenger seat of his Hellcat before I collapse.
“Someone blew up my goddamn Ferrari.”
“And nearly you with it,” Summer points out, climbing in the back seat from the driver’s side.
Ciarán slides into the driver’s seat and slowly slides the key into the engine. Turning it, we wait with bated breath, but the engine roars to life, and we all breathe out. “We’ll figure it out, but you need to focus on recovering right now.”
“Recovering, my ass,” I snarl. “I want whoever did this to pay.” The anger surges through me like a tidal wave, overwhelming any semblance of rational thought. “My fucking Ferrari.” It wasn’t just a car; it was a symbol of my success and power.
“Look, Thal,” Ciarán says, steering us on the road from the hospital back to the city. It’s not far, a few miles at best. “We’re going to find who did this, okay? But right now, we need to get you home and make sure you’re safe, and who gives a fuck about your car? Buy another one.”
“Fine,” I relent as the cityscape outside the window blurs together, a kaleidoscope of lights and shadows.
As we arrive back at Ciarán’s city penthouse, exhaustion washes over me. Though my body screams in protest with each step, there’s a determination burning within me that refuses to be extinguished.
I know that whoever tried to kill me is still out there, and I won’t rest until they’re brought to justice.Mykind of justice. If that means pushing through the pain and putting myself at risk, so be it.
As we enter the penthouse, I’m both relieved at being able to rest my body and uneasy at what lies ahead.
