Chapter 15 #3
Nibbling at one of his fingernails, Haz nodded.
I grabbed my shoes from where I’d thrown them when we’d rushed in last night and bent to stuff my feet into them. My knees and ankles cracked, and the headache I’d been ignoring reminded me it was still there.
Plopping down on the floor, I gazed up. “Do you happen to have anything for a headache?” I asked, pointing to the bruise on my temple.
Haz went back into the kitchen while I tied my shoes, then came back with a bottle in each hand. “These,” he said, shaking an orange bottle with a white lid, “are the pain pills Doc left me the other night when he came to stitch me up.”
Did I mention Haz had stitches in like three or four places? It made me feel a little less clumsy, to be honest.
“And these,” he said, shaking a white bottle with a blue label, “are over the counter from the store.”
I reached for the white bottle.
Haz hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want one of these?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle from Doc. “They’re stronger.”
To be honest, I did want them. Just looking at the bottle tempted me in a way it shouldn’t. And it made the breakfast I’d just hogged down want to reappear. The last time I gave in to temptation, it got me in trouble… How much trouble, I wasn’t even sure yet, but I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
“No, these are fine,” I said, grabbing the bottle and shaking out three round tablets into my hand before tossing them into my mouth.
Haz made a sound and grabbed my half-full coffee off the island and carried it over. “Here.”
“Thanks,” I said, swallowing it down.
Before handing the bottle back, I gave him a sheepish smile. “Mind if I take three more?” If I saved them for later, I could probably get some sleep tonight.
“What’s going on out here?” Kieran’s voice made me jump, rattling the pills left in the bottle.
His presence loomed as he reached over my shoulder to pluck the pain relievers from my hand. “What’s this?” he asked, eyes cracking suspicion over me like a whip.
“Uh,” I stumbled, tipping my head to look up at him. “I, ah… have a headache.”
Kieran’s impenetrable gaze zeroed in on me, and his fingers grasped my chin. “From what?”
Swallowing, I pushed the hair falling over my forehead to the side so he could see the bruise on my temple. The bruise Hiro noticed even with my hair covering it.
“A gun,” I said.
Kieran grunted, stepped back, and looked at my shoes. “I told you to say bye to me before you left.”
“I’m still here,” I countered.
Haz intervened. “But if you keep being like that, he’s going to run off screaming and never come back.”
Kieran’s eyebrow arched gracefully. “Being like what?”
“The sultan of supervision,” Haz told him, tugging the bottle out of his grip and shoving it toward me. “Just take the whole bottle.”
Kieran growled. “Like hell he will,” he snapped, grabbing it back.
Haz gasped and launched himself at Kieran.
Clearly, my welcome had worn out, so I dodged the way Kieran had twisted around to grab Haz off his back and snagged my coat from the floor. Seeing Hiro’s blood on it made my stomach drop, but I shrugged it on and fumbled with the zipper.
It was stuck. Why was it always stuck?
“What in the absolute anarchy is going on out here?” Hiro’s voice cut through the chaos, and any hopes I had of winning the fight with my zipper were toast. I’d just freeze. Couldn’t be worse than this.
Kieran stopped whatever he was doing and turned with Haz dangling from beneath one of his arms.
“Could you give this to Rett, please?” Haz asked, and I glanced around quickly to see him holding out the pain relievers to Ghost.
“You can’t just give out pills to people,” Kieran barked.
“It’s Advil, not crystal meth!” Haz shouted. “And he isn’t people; he’s family!”
“Why don’t you two go hose off in the shower or something?” Hiro suggested. “Or at least make me a snack for the grudge match.”
“You just ate,” Kieran admonished.
Ghost shook his head in disappointment. “Inhospitable.”
I took their arguing as a chance to unlatch the front door. My chances of slipping out unnoticed were dashed when a hand dropped onto my shoulder.
Please be Haz, I prayed, then realized the grip was way too tight to be him.
Please be Kieran, I amended.
You knew it was bad when I prayed for the uninvited CEO of my business to be there instead of—
“Hiro.” The word came out like a breathless punch when he spun me around, crowding me up against the now-closed door with his bare torso and that ink of regret all up in my face.
I thought about kicking him in the nads. It was a good defense for someone smaller like me. One kick and I’d be out the door in no time.
Instead, I inhaled like a sickly Victorian child getting fresh air for the first time, the opportunity to fill my lungs with his scent too good to pass up. I had no idea what this man was made of, but whatever it was soothed my frayed edges like nothing else.
“Why don’t you smell like smoke anymore?” I asked, the words ejaculated like some kind of unexpected orgasm.
Completely embarrassing.
“I quit.” His voice rumbled over my head.
“Why?”
“Someone told me smoking is bad for me.”
It was me. I said that.
I congratulated myself on keeping those words on the inside.