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8
Ronan
Being freed from that damn catheter was the biggest blessing of getting out of the hospital. He settled in onto his sofa, even though the doc had said that he needed to stay horizontal for a few days.
“What’s up, Dec?”
His brother took a seat on the loveseat next to his sofa and stretched out his legs in front of him. With a solemn face, Declan said, “Can you promise me you’ll not go out on some kind of Rambo mission?”
Ronan would do exactly that and, by the look on Declan’s face, he knew.
“So, you and Fi, huh?” Declan said after a beat of silence.
Even though they hadn’t kissed again, Fianna visited him every day in the hospital. She would check on him later tonight after her work on the Moore farm. He couldn’t fuckin’ wait to see her again.
“You know I’ve never stopped lovin’ her.”
“I know, Ro. I think the same goes for her. Will you do me a favor?”
Ronan shrugged, “Sure.”
“Take things slow, man. And don’t hurt her.” Like often, Ronan felt like he was talking to a much older and wiser brother instead of his twin, who only had a couple of minutes on him.
He swallowed his instant reaction and said, “I don’t know if you recall our breakup, but she tore out my heart and ripped it to pieces. She’s not the only one who got hurt.”
“I know.”
He knew that their friends and family all had taken Fianna’s side after the breakup. Sure, his brothers loved him and they’d still go through fires for him.
But when Fianna gave him that ultimatum to stop fighting in the underground scene, even his brother, Duncan, who was an MMA fighter champion, said that he was stupid for letting Fianna go.
Declan was his twin, but they couldn’t be any more different. Declan was the calm, observing, and dutiful detective. And Ronan was anything but all those things. He was more the kind of guy who shoots first and asks questions later.
His temper had brought him into a lot of trouble growing up. At twenty-nine, his ego and smart mouth still didn’t do him any favors. Even though he could handle himself, there were times Ronan got mixed up with the wrong crowd.
He’d drifted apart from his law-abiding twin over the years, but he did all he could to grow close again. He hung out at Declan’s place all the time now, cuddling the twins or annoying Bree with his stupid jokes.
“Are you keeping up working for Don?”
Ronan couldn’t believe Declan really asked him that.
“I love it, man. It’s right up my alley.”
Declan winced at the word alley. Ronan really was a jerk. He knew it. But he just couldn’t help himself.
Ronan connected with Declan in the past few years over his work as a private investigator. It brought them closer again since they could talk about work stuff. It was a much safer topic than the underground fight club or the MC. Or all the random hook-ups he had in his effort to forget Fianna.
Declan still had his opinion about Ronan fighting in underground fights. Not only because Declan was a man in blue and there were a lot of illegal dealings going on during a fight, but mostly because he figured that some day, Ronan would stumble upon more trouble than he could chew.
Declan had once said that Ronan lost a part of himself while fighting underground. He was sure that Ronan’s flirts with the dark side would some day lead into tipping the scale.
Ronan knew his brother was right for worrying about him. In the past years, Ronan had dealt with some certified crazy fuckers. His family didn’t even know half of it.
“Is it wise for you to start something with Fianna while we still don’t have a clue who stabbed you? Can it be someone from your past who’s got a hard on for you?”
Ronan snorted. “Nah. Not a chance. It was just a fluke, Dec. I’m not giving up on Fi because some idiot stabbed me.”
He’d kissed her in his hospital room, surrounded by his family. He didn’t care they already joked about taking bets about how long it would take before Fianna and him would fight again.
