Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
The lobby was a small area with eight chairs, a coffee table, TV, and water cooler along with the curved desk that belonged to the secretary.
Mandy was a woman in her forties with a pretty, rounded face framed in blonde hair.
She was a native to the area, married to Lily, a secretary at the prison.
And one glance had her rushing into action.
“Exam one,” she said, leading us toward the first door down the hallway. “I will get Dr. Price as quickly as possible,” she assured us. “Just the three of you,” she said, looking at me, Jass, and Cillian. “Everyone else can wait in the waiting room.”
Her tone brooked no argument, and the room was hardly even big enough for the three of us anyway, so the rest of my brothers turned around.
“I’ll get dirt everywhere,” I objected when Jass went to transfer me to the small exam table.
“There’s paper on it. It’s fine,” he assured me.
I was suddenly entirely too aware of the fact that I was absolutely caked in the dirt from the basement floor. Even my eyebrows felt gritty.
I should have insisted they let me get cleaned up first.
I was going to get dirt all over the doctor.
“I hear there is an emerge—“ Dr. Price started as he walked into the room, trailing off when his gaze landed on Cillian, Jass, then finally me. “Oh, Delaney,” he said, exhaling hard.
“It’s been a rough few weeks,” I said, tone light, trying to ease the tension in the room.
“I see that,” he agreed, slipping on a pair of gloves then moving toward me. “What hurts? Shoulder again? Ribs?”
“Yes. To both. I don’t think they’re worse than they were to begin with. They’re just…”
“Tweaked?” Dr. Price asked, reaching out to feel my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Okay,” he said after moving my shoulder around a bit. “I think you’re right about your collarbone. I will get you another brace,” he told me. “I’m going to need to lift your shirt,” he added, giving me a look that said he was happy to kick out the guys if I wanted that privacy.
“It’s okay,” I said, nodding.
“You sure?” he asked, looking over at Jass.
“Yeah. Jass is… ah…”
“Her man,” Jass supplied when I fumbled to define us.
“Okay then,” Dr. Price said, pulling up my shirt to press at my sides. “Keep an eye. I think they’re just still bruised. But if you feel short of breath or anything like that, don’t bother calling me. Go straight to the hospital,” he advised, lowering my shirt, then moving away to grab the blood pressure cuff and pulling off his stethoscope from around his neck.
“We’ll keep a close eye on her,” Cillian assured Dr. Price.
I didn’t know if he meant we as in my brothers, or we as in my brothers and Jass.
“Okay, Dell. Your blood pressure is a little lower than I would like. So I am going to give you some fluids, okay? I know you probably want to get home, but I want to make sure you are properly hydrated. It will only take half an hour to forty-five minutes.”
“If she needs it, she needs it,” Jass said, nodding at the doctor.
“Even after she has the banana bag, I want you to make sure she is drinking. Lots of water, not juices or caffeine,” he said, looking between Jass and Cillian.
“We can do that,” Cillian agreed.
“I will give you some pain meds to go home with too,” he said as he made his way toward the door. “I will be right back,” he told us, heading out.
“Dell,” Cillian called, voice tight when the three of us were alone again. “I need to ask you something,” he said.
As if Jass knew where his mind was going, he moved in closer at my side, placing a reassuring hand on my thigh.
“You didn’t say anything to Dr. Price. But he needs to know,” Cillian went on. “Did Pat—“
“No,” I cut him off, knowing what he was about to ask.
“Dell…” Cillian said, voice softer.
“No. He didn’t. He would have. When he came back, he was going to. I knew it. But he didn’t. He was in a rush to cover his tracks,” I said. “He broke his own nose.”
“We weren’t fooled,” Jass assured me.
“Actually, that’s not true,” Cillian said, shaking his head.
“You don’t need—“ Jass started, making me look between the two of them.
“Judge saw right through Patrick’s bullshit,” Cillian said, shaking his head.
“But Sean was the one who figured out the farm,” Jass supplied.
I didn’t have to ask about Patrick.
I knew his fate.
Maybe I should have been horrified by that, by the brutality all the men I loved were capable of.
But, honestly, it just made me feel safe.
And, yes, loved.
I loved Jass.
I’d loved Jass for years, to be honest. But it had grown from a superficial sort of love to something deeper, something with more meaning.