Chapter 17
SLOAN
“Careful,” I growled out, throwing a glare toward Ronan.
He flinched away from me.
Conall sent me a pointed look and rolled his eyes. “I’m not useless, you know? I don’t need you treating me like I’m weak.”
Six days after the helicopter ride and hospital, he was finally coming home, and I’d made sure everything was prepared for him.
I had a personal chef on standby, so he never had to worry about nutritious meals to support his healing.
I hired Rory to stay for the next few days, much to Conall’s dismay.
It didn’t matter how much he argued, I had permanent plans. His event wasn’t going to happen again.
Rory couldn’t live here because he still worked at the EK Memorial on occasion, but he’d recommended a doctor who could reside with us and who was excellent at his job.
I’d hired him. I always wanted someone around to make sure this kind of thing never happened again.
The new doctor started tomorrow. While Rory would still serve as our doctor in the city, it was good to have someone with experience in the Hamptons.
Conall heaved a sigh from where he sat in the wheelchair Ronan had pushed through the front door. “I can walk.”
“Yes, you can, but you’re still weak. You’re recovering, Pet.”
“Mm-hmm.” He gestured to the split staircase in front of us with an unimpressed stare. “And how are we going to handle that with a wheelchair? Can I get up, please?”
I squeezed the bridge of my nose and sighed. I’d thought of everything except this, apparently. It was easy to fall prey to the desire to make things easier for Conall, but we didn’t have an elevator in the house. Maybe that was something I should look into, to make it more accessible for everyone.
“Thank you.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he shoved to his feet and stomped up the stairs.
I was right at his side, and as annoyed as he was at me, he gave me a soft look of appreciation, especially when he wobbled halfway up, only for me to steady him.
“I know you’re worried, but I’m fine. Seriously. ”
“So fine that you can walk the steps without needing a break,” I muttered.
He chuckled and glanced at the bottom of the stairs, where Ronan waited, clutching the handles of the wheelchair. Behind him was Mr. Hopper, his face drawn in concern, which didn’t happen often. I think he’d come to like Conall. Who could blame him?
Conall looked terrible even though Goodheart said it was finally okay for him to go home.
His skin was clammy and pale, and he moved with a stiffness, wincing in pain with every step he took.
His hallucinations had stopped, which was a positive, but it would take a while before he fully recovered.
He needed time to heal. Despite not feeling the best, he still insisted on wearing his ear piercings—including the new spiked cuff—doing his hair, and wearing the best pair of jeans and T-shirt he had.
“Come on, Pet. Let’s do this together.”
We took our time to get up the rest of the steps before Ronan raced behind us with the wheelchair. Conall protested some more, but he sat in the wheelchair anyway, his shoulders slumping in relief.
Ronan wheeled him to our room, and I stayed at Conall’s side until I had him situated in bed with a thin blanket spread over him. He was still experiencing fevers occasionally, making him hot and cold at random times, but we had meds for everything now. I’d make sure he was healthy in no time.
Ronan left us alone.
I sat on the bed beside Conall, my body pressed against his and my arm curled around his shoulders. It wasn’t often that we managed to get a quiet moment like this, and I hated that it was because he was sick.
“You don’t need to babysit me,” he whispered, leaning farther into me.
I smiled. “I’m not. I’m spending time with my pet.”
He hummed. “Well, I’m enjoying it.”
“Me too.” I laid a kiss on his forehead, and he sighed happily. “I hired a chef. He’ll bring you three meals a day, no matter what you’re doing, and Rory will stay here for a day or so, and then we’ll have a new doctor living in the house.”
Conall groaned. “Why? I can take care of myself.”
“Maybe, but you don’t have to. Do you remember when we first met?
” Warmth spread in my chest as I was thrown back to the day in the Virtue, when I’d first seen him and knew I had to make him mine.
He sparkled with an unbridled flame that lit up the room and outshone every whore lined up for me to try.
“How could I forget? Terrance sold me off like a knock-off handbag, the bastard.” He quirked a grin up at me. “But I guess the result wasn’t too bad.”
“Could’ve been worse,” I agreed with a smirk. “You shacked up with a rich mob boss who’s good looking, great in bed, and takes care of you.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “With a lot of humility, too.”
“I wouldn’t be in my position if I didn’t know my worth.
I run a multifaceted business.” I closed my eyes and breathed in his strawberry scent, though it was now mixed with the smell of hospital bleach, which I wasn’t a fan of.
It reminded me of how close I’d come to losing him.
At least he was here at home. Having him back in the house had lowered the anxiety tearing at my insides, and it felt good to relax with him in bed.
“What’s been happening with Lorcan?” Conall asked, all serious. I doubted he’d let me brush off the question because if there was one thing I learned in all the years of being with my pet, it was that he was stubborn but also dependable when it came to the company. My business was his.
“He’s handled. Don’t worry about him.” I laid a kiss on his temple, taking in the warmth of his body against mine.
“And the ones who were in on it? I know they’re young, Sloan, but—”
“Shh, Pet.” I cradled his face between my palms and pressed my lips against his to calm him down. “We’ve sent men after them and they are going to learn the consequences. Their families, too. Trust me. Word will get around about what happens to those who betray us.”
Conall nodded, before a yawn escaped him. “I think I might still be a little sick.”
“A little?” I nuzzled his hair and kissed him on the head again. “Sleep, Pet. I’m right here.”
“Okay.” He was out before he even finished the word, his entire body drooping against me as he let the tiredness win.
I shifted, laying him on the mattress as gently as I could, before slipping out of the bed. I took a shower and dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and button-up shirt. Rolling the sleeves to my elbows, I left the bedroom, purpose in my steps. Conall was back home. I had plans.
Ronan was waiting outside our room, and after I told him to keep an eye on Conall, I stalked the hallways and down the staircase again. I left through the back door. A few of the men who guarded the backyard watched me, their gazes curious, as I stormed toward the greenhouse.
“Sir?” Duffy, one of our loyal soldiers, followed me. “Is there something I can assist with?”
I finally paused when I reached the glass walls of the greenhouse and turned toward him. “Get me a sledgehammer. Now.”
He blinked, eyes widening, before he ran toward the gardening shed.
I rolled my shoulders as I stared at the building, days of rage and turmoil boiling in my stomach.
This place had once been my mother’s refuge, where she’d come for peace and quiet as she fought breast cancer.
She’d moved in with me after Dad died, and it was here that she found out she was sick.
As the years went by, battle after battle, I saw my mother slowly begin to disappear while she sat in this glass building, her will to fight waning until she took her last breath.
Now this was where I’d found Conall, delusional and hallucinating. My mother’s suffering came back to haunt Conall. Her treasured plants became a poison that infected the love of my life. This greenhouse was toxic, a festering wound that reminded me that the people I loved weren’t immortal.
No. The greenhouse had to go, be destroyed, so we could start anew. I wouldn’t let the poison spread until I had no one left.
“Sir?” Duffy returned and passed me the sledgehammer.
I raised the hammer and swung.
Glass shattered under steel and rained down around me.
It wasn’t just a storm of destruction, but a purging of the sickness that festered within these walls.
A history of pain. The greenhouse had taken Mom, let her waste away until she was nothing, but I wouldn’t let the same happen to Conall.
He was mine, and if that meant destroying something Mom and he loved, then so be it.
“Sir.” Duffy’s voice sounded stressed. “At least let me get you protective gear.”
My chest rose and fell. One strike was all it took for the vines of anxiety to loosen. I was far from done with my mission. “Yes.”
As soon as Duffy returned with the equipment, I slotted on the helmet, gloves, and protective glasses before I settled in and went to work.
One hit after another, I smashed the glass that encased the greenhouse and the poison that lived within it.
With each piece I demolished, a thread of tension released inside me until I was free. At least for the moment.
When the last of the glass littered the ground, I moved on to the framework, which was harder to accomplish.
My arms ached and my legs throbbed in pain.
A cost worth paying to get rid of this pit of despair.
Sweat layered my forehead and cheeks and dampened my shirt under my armpits and down my back.
The cool wind against my sweat-drenched shirt was chilling but also oddly comforting.
There was a secret door in the greenhouse, one I knew was filled with weapons, but I ignored it because it didn’t matter. Not right now. When I was done, I’d get the men to move the guns somewhere safer.
“What are you doing?” The distraught tone sliced through my concentration.