Chapter 26
ADRIANA
I woke up in his arms this morning.
He held me close all night, his grip tightening every time I moved. Even while asleep, he couldn’t relax. Something must have happened at that hospital beyond what he told me, and whatever it was kept him tense and tossing until early morning sunlight peeked through the blinds in the bedroom.
When I walk into the kitchen, he’s standing at the big marble island, staring into his coffee mug. Reaper presses against his leg, almost like he knows Lochlan needs comfort. It makes my heart flutter in my chest.
“Hey.” I wrap my arms around his waist from behind and rest my cheek against his back. “Talk to me.”
He heaves a deep sigh. “Ronan didn’t show up at the hospital.”
“What?” My brows furrow and I recoil. “How could he not have gone to see Gavin?”
“Cillian called him three times, so he knew. He just never came.” His voice is flat. “I went to his apartment after I left the hospital. Asshole was drinking whiskey like nothing happened. Said Gavin was reckless and maybe now he’d learn to be more careful.”
Jesus. I knew Ronan was cold, but this behavior baffles me.
They’re brothers, for Pete’s sake. How could he just shrug off the situation like that?
What could possibly have been more important than making sure his youngest brother was safe?
Nothing in the world would ever keep me away from Luna if she was ever in trouble like that.
“And my father.” Lochlan shakes his head and my skin prickles at the disgust in his voice. “He showed up in one of his suits with a pole jammed up his ass. Then he had the nerve to blame Gavin for getting jumped.” He turns to look at me. “He left after that. Didn’t even go into the room.”
My jaw damn near hits the floor. “Wait, he didn’t check on his own son?”
“Nope. Just told me to keep your family in line so the Russians would stop making moves against us.” His hands curl into fists on the counter.
“Gavin was lying there with sixteen stitches in his head, and my father decided he had something more pressing to do besides visit with his youngest son and tell him he’d find the motherfuckers who hurt him. ”
“Oh my God,” I murmur when I realize there’s nothing I can say that will fix this. “What did you say to Ronan when you went to his apartment?”
Lochlan’s jaw tenses. “I told him he’s not my brother anymore.”
I rub a hand down the side of his arm. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you wanted.”
“No.” His shoulders sag, the dejected look in his eyes making my gut wrench. “But I’m done pretending he’s going to change.”
I cup his face. “You still have Cillian and Wolfe and Gavin.”
He nods slowly, pulling me into his chest. I breathe him in, feeling the race of his heartbeat against me. We stand there for a minute, just holding each other. Reaper gets off the floor, huffs, and wanders off to his bed.
“We should pick Gavin up,” Lochlan says. “He’s getting discharged this morning. Knowing him, he’ll try to walk out on his own and pass out in the parking garage.”
“Then let’s go.” I pause. “Oh, wait. We should bring him something. What’s his favorite food?”
A small smile appears on Lochlan’s face. And just like that, the butterflies are awake and swarming. “There’s a sub shop in Southie he’s obsessed with. He loves their foot-long Italian with lots of vinegar and extra hot peppers.”
“Sounds delicious,” I say with a wink. “We’re stopping on the way.”
He grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. “Thank you,” he says.
I raise myself on my tip toes and kiss him. “This is what family does.”
But before I can head for the bedroom to get dressed, he grabs me and presses his lips to mine in a kiss so all-consuming, it makes my blood burn.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he murmurs against my lips once we catch our breath.
“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll be back.” I grin.
I walk into the bedroom and open the closet door. It’s Saturday. No meetings, no clients. My hand lands on a blue sundress at the back of the closet. It’s soft cotton with thin straps and a billowy skirt. I never wear it because it doesn’t exactly fit my CEO image.
But today isn’t about being a CEO.
I pull it on and check myself out in the mirror. The dress hits just above my knees and leaves my shoulders bare. I smile, smoothing the front of it. It’s softer than my usual look. I like it.
When I walk into the living room, Lochlan looks up from his phone. His eyes travel down the length of my body, the heat of his gaze turning my insides molten. He doesn’t say anything for a second.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He crosses the room and slides his hands around my waist. “You look good. Really good. Why haven’t I seen you in that yet?”
“Sundresses don’t exactly command respect in the boardroom.”
“Screw the boardroom.” He kisses my shoulder and I shiver. “I like seeing you this way. Relaxed. Sexy.”
I’m used to impressive, intimidating, formidable. This feels different. And so much better.
“We should go,” I say. “And I also want to see this Mustang you keep talking about.”
His whole face changes. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been working on it for three years, right? I think it’s time I meet her. Is the place on our way? But it’ll have to be quick so we can get to the hospital in time.”
“We’ll be good,” he says, flashing a grin so bright and wide, I’m struck speechless at his gorgeousness. “So I guess my two best girls are finally gonna meet.”
He takes the Escalade so we can fit Gavin in the backseat. His hand closes over mine on the gear shift as we weave through weekend traffic. Gavin’s sandwich is in a bag in the back.
I look out the window at the unfamiliar neighborhood. “I’ve never been to this side of the city,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s a little lowbrow for corporate CEOs,” he says in a joking voice.
My cheeks heat and I let out a small laugh. “Different is good,” I say lightly.
The garage is on a side street in Southie. It’s an industrial building with a heavy metal door. Lochlan unlocks it and hits a switch once we walk inside.
A gasp slips from my lips as the place floods with light. It’s a dingy place with oil streaks on the floor, the smell of car parts, rubber, and gasoline thick in the air. But in the center of it is a 1969 Mach 1 in cherry red. He’s shown me pictures, but in person she really is something else.
I walk toward the car, circling it, taking in every detail. I’ve never been much of a car person, and I wanted to show Lochlan that I’m interested in what makes him happy and lights him up. But seeing the car up close like this… I mean, wow.
The interior is gutted. The seats have been pulled out, the dashboard is half-done, and there are wires everywhere. But even unfinished, I totally get why he’s obsessed.
And I’m completely fascinated by his meticulous work. I turn to look at him. “Lochlan, this is incredible. I’m so impressed.”
“Thanks. She’s almost done,” he says, running his hand along the hood.
I circle the car. “And you really did all this yourself?”
“Every bit. Rebuilt the engine, stripped the paint, replaced the suspension.” He shrugs. “When everything else goes to shit, I come here. It’s the only thing that helps clear my head.”
I get that. It’s like my runs along the river.
I stop at the driver’s side and bend down to look through the empty window frame. For a second, I let myself imagine it. The two of us in this car, driving somewhere far from Boston. Away from the Russians and Eamon and the capos. Away from my father in the hospital and my company falling apart.
Just us. Gone.
Whoa. Cue the record-scratch-sound-effect.
I’ve never wanted to run from my life. I’m the one who stays. Who fights. Who handles things.
But standing here in a sundress instead of my usual business suit armor, I realize how deep I’m letting him in. And a tiny part of me wants to drive off with him and not look back.
That scares me.
“Hey.” His voice pulls me back. “You okay?”
I blink and straighten up. “Yeah. Just thinking about how good we’d look driving down the coast.”
“Soon. Once she’s done, I’ll take you anywhere.”
I hold onto that as we lock up and head to the hospital.
We walk into the hospital room. My stomach plummets into my sandals and I give Lochlan’s hand a squeeze. Holy shit, Gavin looks so much worse than I expected.
I met him at the wedding. He was charming and funny, the kind of guy who flirts with everyone and means none of it.
But he definitely doesn’t look like the life of the party right now.
Deep purple and yellow bruises cover his face, his head wrapped in a tight white bandage that stands out against his dark hair.
And one of his eyes is almost completely swollen shut.
A doctor stands by his bed going over discharge instructions. She’s young, maybe in her early thirties, with long dark hair gathered in a ponytail that streams down her back. Gavin watches her with a dopey grin that tells me he’s not listening to a word.
“—no screens for at least forty-eight hours. That means no phone, no television, no laptop,” she says in a stern voice.
“What if a beautiful doctor wanted to text me?” Gavin asks. “Would that count?”
She doesn’t miss a beat, her face still stoic. “It would. And I won’t be texting you.”
“Ouch, that’s harsh.” But he’s still grinning.
She turns and notices us standing in the doorway. “More family?”
“Brother and sister-in-law,” Lochlan says.
“Good. Someone needs to check on him every few hours. Headaches, dizziness, light sensitivity are all normal. If he experiences confusion, slurred speech, or vomiting, you need to bring him back immediately.”
“Got it,” his brother Cillian says from the corner of the room. I remember him, too.
The doctor gives Gavin one last look. “Rest. I mean it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He winks. She shakes her head, biting back a smile, and walks out.
“Adriana.” Gavin turns to me. “Thank God. Tell these two I don’t need a babysitter.” He points his thumb toward Cillian and another guy I recognize from the wedding but haven’t yet met. Must be Wolfe.
“You absolutely do,” Cillian says.