Chapter Twenty-Four
Sunny
“They’re just going to run a scan to see if it’s healing properly,” I tell him. “You don’t have to go in the actual room with me, Jack.”
He doesn’t say anything.
Of course he doesn’t.
He says everything with those damn eyes.
“You’ll need to wear a lead apron,” the nurse says, glancing between us. “And I’ll need you to stand behind the glass barrier with me during the scan.”
Jack gives a single, silent nod. Because of course he’s not going anywhere.
I sigh and point at the two prospects hovering like shadows in the corner. Both looking at Jack like he invented oxygen.
“They don’t need to stay,” I say. “Out. Both of you.”
They don’t move. Not until Jack gives the smallest nod.
Then they vanish.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“Have I told you today that I hate you?”
He smirks. “Three times.”
“Well, I just want to make sure it’s really clear…” I pause dramatically. “ I hate you. ”
“I love you too, baby,” he says, smug and unbothered.
The nurse tries to hide her laugh.
“Alright, Sunny,” she says gently. “Step up to the X-ray panel and turn so your left side is facing it. Arms up if you can. No worries if you can’t. Just hold still, and we’ll get a few quick images of your ribs.”
“I’ll try,” I mutter. “But I’m about one stretch away from growling like a grizzly.”
“You’re doing great,” she says. “Now take a deep breath in... and hold.”
The machine hums.
Behind the glass, Jack watches me like a man watching a bomb tick down to zero.
I roll my eyes. He’s so dramatic.
But also?
I kind of love it.
***
“I don’t understand why Abby and Tank came at the same time,” I say half an hour later as we walk our way into the waiting room. “Her appointment isn’t for another hour. She didn’t have to show up early just because I needed updated scans.”
“We’d rather not make two separate trips,” Tank says as I settle into the seat across from him, next to Abby.
“How’d it go?” Abby asks, reaching for my hand.
“About as good as expected,” I reply. “They said I could go back to work.”
“They said no such thing,” Jack cuts in.
“They told me when you weren’t looking?” I say sweetly.
“Try again, baby,” he smirks. “I never took my eyes off you.”
I pout. “Well… they were thinking it.”
Jack chuckles, turning toward Abby. “Only two more weeks and she’s cleared. Are you ready for your appointment, doll?”
Abby shrinks a little in her seat. “No. I hate going to therapy. I’m doing better. I don’t know why you guys keep insisting I still need to go.”
“Because it’s what your therapist recommends,” Tank says calmly.
“She just wants more money,” Abby mutters. “This is stupid. I have Riley and Sunny. There isn’t anything I can tell this therapist that I can’t tell my girls. They help me cope better than some stranger with a clipboard.”
“Can they prescribe your anxiety and depression meds?” Tank asks, one brow lifted.
Abby glares at him, but I give her hand a squeeze of support.
“We just want you okay,” Jack says gently.
She exhales hard. “Whatever,” she says, her voice smaller than before. She tightens her grip on my hand. “You guys just… don’t understand.”
Tank leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re right. We don’t. But we’re trying.”
And in that moment, the tension shifts.
Still there. Still heavy.
But held.
Together.
I can see how much Tank loves this woman. It’s obvious. Clear as day.
I even understand why he’s not making a move to claim her. Even if it’s the dumbest reason I’ve ever heard.
“Why are you glaring at Tank, baby?” Jack asks beside me.
“I’m trying to decide how much force I’d need to choke the life out of him,” I admit, deadpan.
“Your woman has an urge for violence, today, brother,” Tank says with a grin. “I like it.”
“I’d need you to bend down, though,” I add. “And don’t fight back.”
“I can do that for you, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Just tell me when and where.”
I glance at Abby, who’s trying, and failing, to stifle her laughter.
“That’s all up to you, big guy,” I say sweetly.
Tank’s smile falters just a little as he looks from me to Abby. He knows. He knows how I feel about his dumb, noble, self-sacrificing decision to keep her at arm’s length.
I tried to throat-punch him yesterday.
Didn’t work.
His throat is way up high and I am… way not .
“We’re not talking about this again, Sunny,” he sighs.
“I know,” I smile, innocent as sin. “That’s why I was just calculating how to unalive you with minimal damage to my own body. You know… just in case. ”
Abby ducks her head, but not before I catch the shimmer in her eyes.
Dang it.
Maybe I pushed too hard.
Tank sees it too. His entire posture shifts. Less playful, more protective. But still… still holding back. Like he’s afraid loving her out loud will break her.
He clears his throat. “I’m gonna go grab some coffee. You want anything, Abbs?”
She shakes her head without looking at him.
“Sunny?”
“I want you to pull your head out of your leather-clad butt,” I mutter.
“Decaf it is,” he says dryly, then heads down the hallway.
The silence he leaves behind feels like something fragile.
I squeeze Abby’s hand again, gently this time. “Sorry. I was trying to be funny, not… pushy.”
“You weren’t wrong,” she whispers, still staring straight ahead. “He does love me. I can feel it. But he acts like I’m this glass doll on a high shelf. Too broken to touch. Too fragile to keep. And he always uses my brother's position as an excuse.”
I lean my head against hers. “Then maybe it’s time to jump off the shelf and land in his lap.”
She lets out a watery laugh. “You think that’ll work?”
“Oh honey, if you land in his lap, you’ll get a reaction. The question is what you’ll do with it.”
She finally looks at me, eyes still glassy, but now full of fire. “I don’t want him to be with me out of pity.”
“And he doesn’t want to be the reason you fall apart.
But love doesn’t come with guarantees. Just chances.
And I think you both deserve one. And if he doesn’t get over his crap soon, maybe it’s time you moved on.
Don’t wait around for him forever. No one is worth a lifetime of loneliness and heartache. ”
Before she can answer, Tank rounds the corner again, two coffees in hand and a storm in his eyes like he knows we’ve been talking about him.
I stand and stretch like I’ve been minding my own business this whole time. “Oh good, coffee. Did you bring extra napkins? I might cry if this isn’t sweet enough.”
Abby chokes on a laugh.
Tank arches a brow. “You cry over unsweet coffee, but not cracked ribs?”
“Cracked ribs don’t destroy my soul. Bitter coffee does.”
I wink at Abby as I sit back down.
This conversation isn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
“Don’t overstep, baby,” Jack whispers, his voice low against my ear. “He can only fight this feeling for so long. Let them figure it out.”
I want to argue.
But he’s probably right.
Still doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop.
Abby’s my friend. I’m not about to let her live in a state of constant sadness just because the fire-breathing dragon is too afraid to touch the pretty princess.
“Abigail Turner?”
We both turn as her name is called, and Abby lifts her chin.
“Can my friend come with me today?” she asks, motioning toward me. “If she doesn’t mind?”
“Not at all,” I say, already rising to my feet.
“Well,” the therapist says, looking mildly unsure, “we don’t normally allow guests without prior notice, but I suppose it’s okay this time. However, your brothers will need to stay out here.”
“That’s okay,” Abby says, tugging me by the hand. “They already know that.”
“Yeah,” I add with a sugary-sweet smile at Tank before looking away. “ Brothers. Stay out here and keep your sister safe.”
I don’t look back. I don’t need to.
I can feel Tank’s glare boring a hole into the back of my head.
“You’re trouble,” Abby laughs under her breath as we walk down the hallway. “And I love you for it,” she adds, squeezing my hand.
“What is it the bikers say?” I grin. “I’m your ride-or-die, right?”
She laughs, a real one this time…bright and warm like the sun breaking through storm clouds.
“Yeah,” she says, eyes misty but glowing. “You really are.”
“Damn straight,” I wink. “Now let’s go talk to the lady with the degree so we can prove you’re already smarter than half the people walking around with no trauma and too much confidence.”
The therapist leads us into the room with a warm smile and a clipboard in hand.
It’s… nicer than I expected.
Not sterile or cold like most offices. It’s bright. Calm. A large window wall opens out onto a private patio, where sunlight spills over desert plants and a view of the Palm Springs landscape stretches all the way to the mountains.
“Wow,” I breathe, stepping closer to the glass. “Okay, so it’s not a rainforest or anything, but dang. That’s beautiful.”
“Right?” Abby murmurs beside me. “Hard to believe a place this peaceful is used for trauma counseling.”
I nod, eyes still on the horizon. “Maybe that’s the point.”
The therapist gestures toward a cushy couch and a couple of chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll just grab a few forms from my desk and we’ll get started.”
We’re barely seated when the patio door behind us slides open with a whisper.
I turn, expecting a staff member.
Instead, A man in black steps through the open door, smooth and silent. Before I can even react, he lunges forward and plunges a needle into the therapist’s neck.
She gasps, a soft, terrible sound, then crumples to the floor.
“ Abby ” I shout, turning to grab her hand.
Too late.
Another intruder is already on her, jamming a needle into her neck before she can even scream. Her eyes go wide. She tries to fight, but her limbs go loose and heavy.
“No!” I scream, leaping at the man trying to drag Abby from the room.
A third man grabs me from behind, arms like steel. I twist, kick, elbow…but I feel the prick at my neck and the world begins to tilt.
Everything blurs.
Abby’s face.
The therapist’s body.
The sunlight glinting off the patio door.
And then…
Darkness.