Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Are ye certain you’ll be able to handle it?” he asks again. “I can’t have ye going nuts and killing one of the pricks in the middle of the fight.”
“I can handle it,” I tell him with certainty. “The pain never bothers me.”
Crow frowns and gets up to leave, but pauses at the door. When he glances back at me, his face is solemn.
“I can’t tell you what this means to me, Ronan. Thank you.”
Chapter Seven
Sasha
I’m sitting on mom’s bed, watching her favorite true crime shows. I narrate them for her since she isn’t really able to see them for herself. I don’t know if she can even hear me, but I like to tell her who I think did it and add my own reasons to their motive.
Just like we used to do.
Those days are never going to happen again. She still hasn’t woken. It’s been two days. Her skin is growing more pallid by the hour, and I know the end is coming soon.
I’m angry with her. I’m angry that she decided to give up, even though that isn’t fair. I want her to fight. I want to be selfish and demand that she stay a little longer. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. The medication she’s on makes her sleep all the time, and I worry that she’ll go before I get a chance to say anything at all. Emily’s flying back home in two days. It’s all becoming too real.
Amy said she would taper off the dosage of her medication before she progresses to the point of no return. It still doesn’t comfort me. Because getting that chance doesn’t change the words that won’t come. What am I going to say to her? How do you tell someone you love so much goodbye?
My phone beeps from the dresser beside me, and I consider ignoring it. Nobody ever texts me unless it’s work. One of the other dancers probably called in sick. I don’t feel like working tonight. But I don’t feel like sitting in this house and watching my mother die either. I’m not spoiled for choices, so I pick up the phone.
I’m surprised to see it’s Mack. After one glance at her message, I’m up and out the door before I can even give it any thought. I don’t know where I’m going. The only thing I know is that I need to get to him.
***
By the time Rory and Conor’s cars pull up to Lachlan’s house, I’ve nearly worn a hole in the pavement from my pacing.
Mack jumps out of one car, barking out instructions as Michael and Rory carry Lachlan up the stairs.
“Where is he?” I demand.
“Conor’s helping him,” Mack says, pointing at the other car.
I rush over to help, and the sight of Ronan lying in the backseat with his face beaten makes me irrationally angry.
“How could you let him do this?” I yell at Conor. “He needs to see a doctor.”
“The doctor cleared him to come home,” Conor answers. “And there’s another on the way. And for the record, I don’t have any say over what Ronan or Lachlan does.”
Rory appears at my side a moment later, giving me a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “Hey, Sash. He’s going to be just fine, okay? Now step aside so we can get him in the house.”
I do as he says, watching as they lift his limp body up into their arms. I feel like I should be doing something. Helping somehow. Ronan’s always been so strong, I never imagined seeing him like this. I never imagined anything could ever actually hurt him. That he’d ever let anyone close enough to.
The guys carry him inside and I’m hot on their heels.
They heave Ronan onto the sofa and then Rory gives Conor some instructions while I walk into the kitchen and grab a wet cloth. When I come back out Rory is gone and only Conor is sitting in the parlor.
I kneel down beside Ronan and wipe away the blood on his face when Conor hovers over me with a nervous expression.
“I’m not so sure you should be doing that,” Conor says. “He went sort of nuts at the fight and they had to sedate him after. He said not to let anyone touch him. He was very, very clear about that.”
“Well I’m not anyone,” I argue. “And I don’t care what the stubborn bastard said. I’m cleaning him up.”
Conor remains quiet while I continue to do just that, but it’s obvious he doesn’t like it. There isn’t a single part of me that cares what he thinks. I know Ronan is his superior. He gives out instructions, and Conor has to follow them. That’s the way it works in the mob. But I’m not one of their lackeys, and I’m sure as hell not going to follow a ridiculous order at a time like this.