Rowan (The Irish Wolves Book 3)

Chapter 2

Rowan’s thoughts were all jumbled. She thought she was dreaming, but she also thought she was awake. Her eyes wouldn’t open. Asleep. Her mom and dad just hugged her. Dreaming. Her parents were dead. A car wreck. Reality.

She would do anything to have them back. To run her fingers through her mother’s long black hair, a testament to her proud Native American heritage—just like Rowan’s. To see her hazel eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughed, teasing her Irish dad about his brilliantly white skin hurting her eyes—just like Rowan’s.

She really should try to wake up, but Mom and Dad were holding her hands now.

“I love you, my sweet little Rowan tree,” her mother whispered, clasping Row’s hand to her chest.

“M”iníon. Mothaím uaim thú,” her father spoke as he kissed the knuckles of her other hand. My daughter. I miss you.

“I’m glad you’re here. Raven, River, and I miss you so much. Can you stay longer? So they can see you too?

Rowan knew this was a dream, but even so, she’d never want her sisters, her best friends, not to see their parents again. The three remained strong after the death of their parents because they chose to. They chose not to allow depressing shadows to linger. They expected each other to share when one of them was going through a rough patch. To catch one another when they stumbled.

Rowan focused again on her parents. They were now standing against the far wall in whatever room this was. She felt hot tears leak from the corners of her eyes, knowing they were leaving. Of course, they couldn’t stay. This was only a dream. They smiled once more before disappearing.

Damn it. Rowan hated how alone she felt. Even in her dreams, she ended up alone.

She sighed, feeling sorry for herself. But...there was some reason Rowan needed to wake up. A meeting? Hair appointment?

She stopped trying to pry her eyes open when she remembered a story her mother used to tell her at night sometimes. The story of why she and Dad chose Rowan as her name. Mom said it was because rowan trees have deep roots and are resistant to frost and wind. They are slender but hearty. Small but mighty. Dependable. Just like Rowan was, she’d said. Another tear slipped free, tracking down her temple. She loved that story.

Finally, the warmth of too many blankets forced Rowan to open her eyes. Unfortunately, that small victory only led to confusion. She was in the white room from her dream—the lovely one with her parents. She loved dreaming about them. She and her sisters believed it was Mom and Dad’s way of sending their love.

This was not her bed.

“Rowan, oh God, Rowan!” Raven was crying and holding Row’s right hand to her chest, red-eyed and hiccupping in her distress.

“Oh, God, Row. I love you. I love you. I love you. We’ve been so scared,” River wailed, her sister’s hands clasped tight to her thighs.

There was rustling and what sounded like a door opening before someone shouted, “I need a doctor in here now!” Rowan couldn’t see the speaker through the black curtains of her sisters’ hair, but there was no doubt that the voice belonged to Hugh.

Rowan realized her left arm was in a sling, and she had all sorts of wires and gadgets taped to her body.

Her confusion must have shown on her face because Raven explained between sniffles, “It was Sam Delton. He shot you.” At Rowan’s gasp, her sister assured her that she’d been very lucky and would make a full recovery. “Thank God the bullet missed anything...vital, but it was close, Row.”

“So damn close,” River finished. “You’ve been sedated and asleep since surgery. Two days.”

River choked on the ‘two.’ They must have been so worried. Rowan thought back to her last memories. She remembered going to the bakery, walking with…Rowan stiffened and tried to sit up, only to moan in pain and fall back.

“Where is the fucking doctor?” Hugh bellowed out the door as Jo and her grandma, Nan, rushed in. One worry down then, Jo was safe.

“Thomas? Peter?” Peter had been her guard that day. The Byrnes, O”Faolains, and Jo and James O”Connor had been guarded by Thomas MacGregor”s security for months. Once the Oklahoma authorities discovered that a deranged psychopath was hell-bent on hurting their families, they”d gone nowhere without a guard. Delton”s warped reasoning and delusions had made their lives increasingly difficult, especially when it was discovered he”d followed them to Ireland.

“Peter was shot twice,” Jo explained. “In his leg, which caused considerable damage, and his arm. With rest and physical therapy, he will be okay. Thomas is with him now.”

Nan scooched in on Raven’s side and kissed her face about forty times, tears falling down Rowan’s neck. “My sweet baby. Oh, Rowan, my love, my love. Tell me what you need. Anything.”

“I’ll be fine, Nan. I swear. I’m sorry I worried everyone so much.” Rowan was still trying to process that their stalker had actually shot her. “Is he still…out there?” Rowan swallowed the fear clogging her throat at the thought.

Bran and Patrick stepped toward the bed then, each putting hands on her sisters’ shoulders. “The extra men MacGregor hired to patrol the neighborhood caught a reflection from the roof of a nearby building. They all had walkies and MacGregor sent out orders as soon as the shooting stopped,” Bran explained.

“They knew where to concentrate their efforts. Once Delton realized he was surrounded, it was over.”

“Enough, boys. Rowan doesn’t need every detail,” Hugh growled at his sons.

Rowan dismissed the Guru of Denial’s comment. She needed to learn how to become an expert on ignoring him if she hoped to ever control her feelings for the man. He’d made it abundantly clear, more than once to her chagrin, that he would never be romantically attached to her.

“What do you mean by, ‘it was over?’ Did he surrender?” Rowan queried.

Nan was the one to answer while she finger-combed Rowan’s hair. “He jumped. Killed himself, and good fecking riddance, I say.”

“Nan!” River gasped. “Language,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“I said what I said, and I won’t apologize. That despicable human hurt one of my girls and so he was more than welcome to die at his own hand.”

Rowan could only shake her head. It was crazy to wake up, find out she’d been shot, and then find out the shooter was dead.

“Since the shooting, the FBI has gotten much further into Delton’s online sexual predator presence. They believe many of the women in his videos can be identified and contacted. Delton is dead, but he had a lot of money in several accounts that they’ve discovered since getting a hold of his phone and laptop,” Patrick explained.

“He was wearing a uniform shirt from that coffee shop we loved,” River added. “When they searched the store, the FBI found his luggage in the back, including his laptop. He must have been planning on leaving Dublin after he shot you, Row.” River finished, touching a napkin to her eyes, tearing up again.

“He was in contact with several ‘people of interest,’” Bran air quoted. “Which means they have solid leads in taking down several nasty predators. Delton, at least, won’t be hurting or terrorizing anymore women. Also, our families are finally free to live our lives openly again.”

“No more buddy system,” Rowan said, attempting a smile.

“The accounts of money Pat mentioned are probably not all of them,” Raven explained. “The FBI believe they’ll uncover more. That money can be used to help the women that Delton abused. For counseling or anything else they might need.”

“It’s probably the same money his father stole from the O’Faolains, right?” Rowan asked.

“Most likely,” Jo answered. “But Hugh said he didn’t want a dime of it back. He is relinquishing all claim to the embezzled funds to help the women that were hurt.”

At this, Rowan looked at Hugh, who, shocker, remained silent. Christ, that man was the most...the most irritating human being.

“You cried before you woke up. Are you hurting?”

Ahh, he speaks.Observant and direct. His dark hair, barely long enough to lay over, was shaved close on both sides. His beard was a ridiculous source of fantasy-laden daydreams, and his broad shoulders and muscular thighs were beacons shouting “touch me” beneath his gray tee and jeans. The t-shirt hid ripped abs. She would know, after all, she’d seen him naked.

But oh, God. He looked wrecked.

Rowan cleared her throat, darting glances at Raven and River. They immediately sat up straighter. “I’m sore, but it’s bearable.”

“What made you cry? You were talking in your sleep.”

Good Lord, no wonder the man was so successful. His motto had to be “Let Nothing Go. Ever.”

When her sisters touched her legs, questioning, Rowan couldn’t lie. “Mom and Dad. I dreamed they were here. I promise to tell you guys about it later. Okay?” They both nodded. “You too, Nan.” Her grandma nodded, equally as moved.

A harried-looking doctor entered her room before Rowan could ask any more questions. He was handsome in a mid-forties, vacation needed ASAP, kind of way. His nurse was an older woman who followed the doctor into the room. One more body, and the walls would pop at the seams.

Her sisters and Nan backed away from the bed so that the doctor could approach. “Miss Byrne,” he smiled. “I’m Dr. Trenton, and this is my favorite nurse, Terese.”

Terese grinned, patting her salt and pepper bun “I’m only his favorite, because I bring him donuts every week.”

“Hey, not true, T,” Dr. Trenton denied. In a stage whisper, he added, “But if I were to be bribed, donuts are the way to go. I’m the one who took care of you in surgery, by the way.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Hopefully, I’m well enough to get out of your hair sooner rather than later.”

“I want to take a look at your incision and poke about your chest in a painful way to check that everything is healing as it should,” he chuckled. “Seriously, though, you’ll probably want to hit me before this is over.”

Rowan didn’t laugh because her chest and shoulder area were starting to fuss at her. Laughing would have been a big no-no. “I don’t mind. The sooner you say I’m okay, the sooner I can check out of this lovely white box.”

Dr. Trenton began to untie her gown, and her sisters crowded the bed, uncaring that the doctor might need room to do his job.

“Boys, leave the room. Now.” Hugh demanded.

What in the hell was Hugh going on about now? It’s not like Bran and Patrick would try to sneak peeks at her breast. Jesus! Raven and River raised their brows at Rowan and then told their spouses that they would call them back when the doctor had finished his exam. Bran and Patrick smiled at Rowan before leaving the room.

Hugh was still staring at Rowan, or more specifically, the doctor currently peeling her gown aside to get to her bandages. Most of her left breast was exposed now. Dr. Trenton immediately started removing the tape and gauze.

“Luckily, the bullet passed between the ribs below your breast here,” The doctor explained as he touched a spot below her breast that she couldn’t see. “It got hung up between the bones in your back. One rib in the front was cracked and two in the back. With patience, you should feel fine in a few months with only a bit of lingering tenderness.”

Hugh came closer to the bed, standing directly behind the doctor. If Dr. Trenton was uncomfortable with a berserker breathing down his neck, he never let on.

Trenton wasall business as he discarded the bandages on a tray the nurse had placed next to him on the bed. All Hugh could think about was how close he’d come to losing Rowan, and now, how close another man was to Rowan. Doctor or not, he didn’t like it. He was irrationally obsessed with the need to hold her and assure himself that she truly was going to be okay.

He hadn’t slept or left her side since she’d gotten out of surgery. None of them had, except when Bran and Raven would take moments to spend time with their son, and Patrick would force River to take a quick nap on his lap in the waiting room. Even Devlen, Bébhinn’s fiancé, insisted she sleep at her apartment last night.

Getting that call, Christ. He went mad with rage. He wanted to hug her gently to his chest and tell her...he couldn’t tell her how he felt, but fuck him, he wanted to.

“Hey, Row,” River began, “at least your boob tattoo was on the other side.”

He’d seen that particular tattoo and a lot more than that.

Jo, Nan, and Raven all laughed at River’s joke. He wanted to laugh too. He wanted to pretend he wasn’t falling apart. He couldn’t. His chest felt tight every time he relived MacGregor’s call, telling him that Rowan had been shot. Had she not made it…Hugh wasn’t sure if he could have recovered.

Jo excused herself to check on MacGregor and his man, Peter. Rowan’s gaze met his. Something in his face must have alerted her to his distress because she raised her brow in question. Hugh could only shrug and shake his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to pay attention to what Dr. Trenton said about her recovery and eventual physical therapy.

“Hugh. Come here, please.”

His head jerked to Rowan’s face. She was holding her right hand out toward him.

“Rave, make room for Hugh, please.”

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to only go to her. He needed to touch her and assure himself she was whole. Raven stood and moved back, giving him room to walk up and take Rowan’s hand. Clasp her delicate fingers between his own, much larger ones.

He could take her hand in front of her family.

He could claim her as his.

He took one step forward, his eyes never wavering from hers. He stopped.

She was still too young for him.

“I wish...” Hugh couldn’t finish. He knew he was about to break both their hearts. Hugh saw the moment Rowan realized he wouldn’t take her hand—his rejection. Her hand fell to her side. God, the pain in his chest was debilitating.

“If my wishes were wants granted, I’d be yours, and you’d be mine, Hugh.”

She’d said that—out loud and in front of her sisters. In front of her grandmother, the doctor, and a nurse. Courageous. An action Hugh could not claim at that moment. He felt his face burn with shame. Regret. He spun on his heel and yanked the door open. Before the click sounded at his back, he heard Rowan speak once more.

“Goodbye, Hugh.”

He ignored the alarmed looks on his sons’ faces as he burst out of Rowan’s room. He couldn’t leave the hospital fast enough. The last look he’d seen on Rowan’s face would forever be etched in his memory. Disappointment. Defeat.

Hugh knew he was doing the right thing. Why, then, did he feel like the dumbest man in the world?

In twenty years, hell, even in ten years, Rowan would thank him for not allowing her to be shackled to an old man. Hugh had also proven that relationships and marriage weren’t for him. He knew his ex-wife was a horrible woman, the opposite of everything Rowan Byrne encompassed, but the truth was, he’d still failed. He hadn’t made Helen happy. Ever. There was a possibility he couldn’t make any woman happy.

There had been women over the years that he’d liked well enough. Women who wanted more than casual sex. He’d never been tempted. Not one time.

Hugh shook his head as he stepped through the hospital’s automatic doors. He’d never been tempted, but that was before Rowan, and she deserved better than an angry older man dimming the very qualities that drew him to her.