My mood descends with the elevator, and I’m scowling by the time I make it to the conference room floor. Like a bad omen, dread slithers down my shoulders and back. Haisley is standing outside the door, and I shoot her a friendly smile and wave when she looks over at me.
“Hey, right on time. You look bloody awful,” Haisley says, and I pause to look down at myself. She rolls her eyes, slinking over to me to grip my biceps and squeeze. “I mean your face, honey.”
“Then I must feel as awful as I look.” My frustration is evident in my voice. Concern knits her brows, and her hands slip from my shoulders loosely. “Here.” Pushing my folders at her, my apprehension twists my face. “So, is there anything I need to know before we go in there?”
“Uh, you’re not going to like it, but the numbers don’t add up. Also, your dad came and brought Penelope.” Haisley winces as my eyes whip to hers. My heart jumps into my throat. Blood drums in my ears, and red seeps into my vision.
He actually had the balls to show up, and here I figured he’d ghost me on this too.
“He won’t let me in.” Haisley’s words make me see red.
“Oh no, we’renotdoing this,” I growl nastily, gripping the door handle only to find it locked. Rapping hard on the thin, oak door, I take a deep breath.
“Open this door right now!” I demand with authority. The beating of my heart counts down the seconds, and I faintly hear whispers and shuffling on the other side. Relief skitters painfully up my neck when the lock clicks. My father stands, imposing, on the other side, and I glare hotly at him.
“We had this conversation, Dad. I am COO. I run this charity. I hire and fire. You may have started this organization, but you gave it to me.” Oh, just seeing his face makes me mad. I can’t believe he went behind my back! Hijacked my meeting! Overturned my decision or is desperately trying to. He can’t reinstate Penelope as the accountant even if he wanted to. The nerve of this bastard.
My father opens his mouth to speak, but I shove my hand in his face to push him out of my way. Penelope sits with a smug look, and I see red. Pointing at the door, I stare her down as her haughty expression slowly begins to fade.
“This is a meeting for employees and contractors of Knitted Hearts only, and you’re not either anymore. Get out. If you try to deny me, I’ll call security,” I command, and she looks unsteadily at my father before I stand in front of him, cutting off their contact physically. “I said get out. Don’t look at him. He’s not the one who makes the rules here. Look at me.”
“Delilah,” my father says in warning, but I shoot him a glare. I don’t care how bitchy I may seem at this moment. My job, my pride, my reputation, and everything dear to me is on the line. I’m not letting anyone jeopardize it. He wisely keeps his mouth shut, his disapproval all over his face. Turning on his heel to leave the room, he disappears toward the elevator. When I turn around, Penelope is gathering up her stuff. She worms past me, not daring a glance at my furious expression.
I gesture Haisley into the room, and stunned silence reverberates through it. Several accountants and department secretaries stare at me openly. I ignore it, shuddering my shoulders hard and taking a second to catch my breath. My anger still rampages through my veins, but with nowhere to direct it, it fizzles out.
“Okay,” I huff. “Let’s get started on this emergency meeting. We don’t appear to be missing anyone, so we’re going to just jump right into it,” I manage as cheerfully as I can, but after mylittleexplosion . . .
“Why don’t you start us off, Haisley,” I say, gesturing to her and taking my seat at the head of the long, glass table.
Haisley nods and walks to the head of the table. I hand the remote off for the projector so everyone can see what she’s talking about and sink into an open chair. Fuck, this is going to kill me. The stress of it all.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
KEENAN
Flexing my hand and arm experimentally, I scoff. A mix of disgust and incompetence washes my mouth. The bullet hole in my shoulder aches and sweat sticks my clothes to me like a second skin. Sitting back on the elliptical to pant harshly, I sweep my hands up my face and push back my hair. I’m hitting a dead end and I don’t like it one bit. Even just pedaling hurts after an hour. And that doesn’t involve my arm at all.
I heave a massive breath to ease the burning in my lungs before hopping off the stationary bike. Wandering down the short aisle of exercise equipment, I pause in front of the benchpress to flex my hands by my sides. Working my hand is a double-edged sword. I can’t work it too hard, and I can’t work it too little. I’ve spent so much time working with the therapist, and I’ve already done what doctors say I could never do again. I shot a gun, but I’m not stopping there. I want to build my strength up to the point that I can do more. But I know what I need to do, I have to suffer just enough. The lack of function isn’t even the worst part. I clench my jaw hard, grinding my molars and tearing my eyes off the cushioned bench.
I wonder if Delilah’s day has gotten better. Thinking about her eases the pain going up my side. I wrap my arm around my chest and wince lightly. From the text she sent me earlier, I seriously doubt it.
Delilah had a meeting with her accountant friend today. I’d pay money to watch it, especially given the fact her father was asked to be there. Who knows if the bastard even bothered to show up. Hell, I’d pay a few euros to see him get his arse chewed out. I crack a smirk at my own musings before my phone trills in my pocket. The sound echoes, carrying through the entire small gym.
I dig my phone out from my pocket and see it’s Liam. What could this be about? He might just be calling to ask how I am, though I’m not confident that’s the reason. Grimacing at the phone screen, I lick my lips nervously before answering. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he says simply.
“What’re you calling about?” I reply, but I already know the answer. Liam sighs irritably.
“You know what I’m calling about, Keenan. I wanted to ask about your injury. How’s your shoulder holding up?” he asks pointedly, and a wave of self-consciousness washes through me. After a few odd moments of silence, he clears his throat and speaks up. “I heard from Eamon that you had some trouble.” Eamon’s my right-hand man, and I’ve had him communicating with our cousin more over the last couple weeks. Though, I didn’t know they were communicating about me.
“It wasn’t terrible.” I feel like cattle being sized for slaughter, and I know my voice reflects that. Defensively, I turn my head away even though Liam can’t see me. “I’m getting better. It’s getting easier.”
“I bet,” he says blandly. “I can tell you’re lying. And I know Eamon lied. He’s terrible at it. I’ll ask again, and this time, I want a real, honest answer, Keenan. How is your arm?”
“Since you’re so damned perceptive, why don’t you tell me,” I snap harshly. “Bloody hell. It hurts. Youknowit hurts. You’re the one who sent the therapist here, so I’m sure they’re reporting back. You have toknowit fucking sucks that I’m not healing as fast as I want. Being fucking handicapped, or at least feeling like I am, it’s a struggle. I want to do normal things without feeling like my hand or arm’s on fire.”
A ringing quiet meets my outburst, and I gasp for breath. “I’m fucking next to useless, Liam. That’s how my arm is. Thanks for making me say it out loud.”
