Chapter 28
twenty-eight
. . .
Ronan
The Wilde family was notorious for doing dangerous things that ended with injuries requiring the care of a doctor.
We were also notorious for not bothering with the doctor, especially if it was something like the gunshot wound to the calf Dad suffered back when we were mostly too young to understand.
Colin, Nate and I listened at the kitchen door as Dad walked out to confront a "business partner.
" They argued, and before Dad could dive out of the way, the man shot him in the leg.
The shooter hopped in his car and raced off the ranch, leaving behind a cloud of dust and an empty shell.
We raced out the door and found Dad sitting in a pool of his own blood.
He'd taken off his shirt and was tying it around his leg to slow the bleeding.
Zander and Jameson had returned from riding bikes as the three of us struggled to get Dad into the house.
Dad wouldn't let us call an ambulance or take him to the hospital.
He knew a few people, people with questionable backgrounds, who knew just enough about medicine to be either helpful or incredibly dangerous.
In the end, his friend, Mad Maggie, as she was called in his circle, came and plucked the bullet out of his calf muscle.
It had missed the bone entirely. Dad's yell was loud enough to shake the rafters as she poured whiskey into the bullet hole.
Mad Maggie must not have been all that mad because he healed fast, and aside from a slight limp for a year, you never would have known he'd been shot.
My brothers and I had all suffered multiple broken bones, and while Dad usually took us to the hospital to get them set, we never returned for follow-up X-rays or cast removal.
Dad even bought a small saw, so we could cut them off at home.
Nate had a scar by his thumb where Colin had cut him with the saw while removing a wrist cast.
I cut open the tape around my fingers. It was frayed and dirty, and the fingers beneath felt stiff and numb, as if they weren't really part of my body.
It had been three weeks since I'd snagged my pinky on the tree.
I remembered that day well because it was a particularly bad one.
It was the last time I'd spoken to Rachel.
The knuckle on my pinky didn't look quite right, but I doubted it would ever look normal again.
Bending and straightening all three fingers took some concentration and effort, but once I started moving them, the numbness vanished.
The pinky was probably not entirely healed.
The doctor said at least five weeks, but I didn't have five weeks.
I promised Doris I'd show up to the jobsite today, otherwise she was going to fill the vacancy.
The coffee finished brewing. I decided to throw my right hand straight back into life. I used it to pour the coffee and realized it was about as good and steady as my left hand had been at pouring coffee.
Colin was just finishing a loud yawn and scratching his bare stomach as he walked into the kitchen.
His hair was standing straight up on his head, and his neck was covered in red marks.
I handed him the cup I'd just poured. "Here, you look like you need it.
" I glanced past him to make sure no one was behind him.
"Who do you have in there? She was really dramatic.
'Colin! You fucking god, Colin!'" I mimicked the theatrics I'd heard, only I did it in a quiet voice.
His partner was definitely not quiet. Even the upstairs neighbor had been stomping on the floor at the noise.
"That's right. You were in bed when we got home. That's Janelle, from work."
"Mixing business and pleasure? I think that's a big no-no."
Colin nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we stopped for drinks and to complain about our grumpy boss and one thing led to—"
"You fucking god, Colin?" I repeated.
Colin chuckled. "Yeah, that. She's really quiet and easygoing at work, but man between the sheets, she's, well, she's a—"
"A banshee?" I supplied.
"Stop finishing my sentences, twin. Besides, I was going to say something a little more flattering like tiger, but considering how loud she got, you might be right.
" Colin grabbed two waffles out of the freezer.
"Now we're going to have to talk and set new rules and boundaries. Shit, I'm such an idiot."
"Yep. Would not want to be you right now."
Colin walked to the table to set down his coffee. "Fuck, why did you leave your filthy bandages on the table?" He shoved them, so they flew off and landed on the floor. "How many times did you wipe your ass with those things? Shit. You're a pig."
I waved my left hand. "Used this one and, frankly, I got pretty damn skilled as a southpaw."
I sat down with a cup of coffee. Colin grabbed my wrist and held my hand up to the light coming through the blinds. "This muffin wasn't baked all the way through. It still looks tweaked."
"Yeah, I see that. I need to get back to work. Doris will fill my spot, and I can't afford to lose this job."
"Don't have to tell me that."
Colin had been cool about paying my side of the bills, but he was probably at the end of that rope, and I couldn't blame him.
"Thanks for not kicking me out," I said.
"I'll get back to work and try to pay back some of the money I owe you.
It's just so fucking hard getting ahead.
" As I said it my mind went straight to Rachel.
She was struggling, too, but she had way more responsibility.
All I had was my sorry ass, and I'd stupidly pulled out the big cock card and told her I didn't like her working at the club.
It was true, and even now, I had to force myself not to think about other men leering at her. I was an asshole. I had no right.
Colin's waffles popped up. He retrieved them from the toaster, drowned them in syrup and sat back down. "Do you think you can work?"
"I'm going to give it my best shot."
"Did you ever hear from her again?" Colin asked.
"Who?"
"The stripper. The woman you'd been seeing. Rachel." It took me several days before I could talk about that night. I'd finally let Colin know why I'd been acting like such a psycho. He seemed to get it. That was the way we worked. We were always on each other's side in any situation.
"Nah, it's over. She made that clear, and I think she had some rich dude on the side. He looked like a total dick, but she needs that kind of support. I can't give her that. She's got a kid."
"Shit, does she? You never said. Yeah, sounds like the rich guy is more what she needs."
He figured I was over her and that his comment wouldn't feel like someone had just hammered a nail through my chest. But I wasn't over Rachel. I had no choice but to forget about her, but it had been really fucking hard. I hoped getting back to work and life in general would help.
I carried my empty cup to the sink. Soft footsteps padded the hallway. Colin's friend had walked out of the bedroom wearing only one of his T-shirts. She walked right over and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Morning," she said sweetly.
Colin nodded. "Morning."
I exchanged glances with Colin as I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. He was going to have some major regrets about last night's decision. But he'd come out of it shiny and new. Shit always rolled off my brother, just like it always stuck to me.
The morning was cold and dreary as I headed out, but I was in a good place. I was getting back to work. My hand was white and wrinkled and looked like something that belonged on a store mannequin, but that didn't matter. I knew how to ignore and work through pain. After all, I was born a Wilde.