Doc Jones managed to look down her nose at himdespite the fact that she was sitting. “I should give you some damn Xanax, because, God knows, you aren’t going to sleep tonight. But I know better.”
He managed a small smile. “Yes, you do.” The closest Aiden got to pills was ibuprofen, and even then he had to be seriously hurting to take it. He knew damn well it was his control-freak nature, but that didn’t mean he was about to change.
“Should shoot you with a damn horse tranq.” Doc Jones shook her head and stood, her gaze narrowing on Keira, who was sitting meekly on the couch. “And you. Don’t get me started on you. That shit you put in your body is going to kill you, girl.”
“Not if a stray bullet gets me first.”
Aiden turned to tell Keira not to joke like that, but Doc Jones boomed out a laugh. “At least you’ve got your sense of humor.” She packed up her stuff and headed for the door, pausing next to Keira. “Eat something, girl. Suicide, whether it’s fast or slow, is the coward’s choice. Find something to live for.” Then she was gone, the door shutting softly behind her.
Keira barely waited for her heavy footsteps to disappear down the hallway before she jumped up. “I need a hit like nobody’s business.” Then she was gone as well, though her exit was much quieter.
Alone at last, Aiden finally moved to crouch in front of Charlie. She didn’t say anything as he took her hands and extended her arms, turning them this way and that, examining Doc Jones’s bandage job. It was impeccable, as always. “How are you doing?”
“Terrible.” She sighed. “It’s been a while since I was in the middle of a crisis like that. I forgot how hard the adrenaline spike is afterwards.”
There were half a dozen things he needed to be doing right now, starting with having Liam smooth things over with the Boston PD, but he didn’t give a damn. She was hurting and shaky, and he wanted to be the one to hold her until it passed. “Let’s get up to our room. I have one call to make and then I can help you get settled in.” His men deserved that much.
Aiden would figure out if the Eldridges were responsible, and if they were, he’d make them pay. That was his job. He took no joy in it. This shit never ended. Even as he took steps to secure their future safety, some other threat would come along and pull the rug out from beneath his feet.
There were several smaller organizations who weren’t too keen on the hold the O’Malleys had over central Boston, but this drive-by was a bold move. Colm Sheridan’s massacre of the MacNamara family was the stuff of nightmares, and no one was willing to push either the O’Malleys or the Hallorans hard enough to risk an outcome on that level.
No, the Eldridges were the only ones reckless enough to attack this boldly.
He put that all on the back burner, to think about after he got Charlie relaxed enough to sleep. He stood, letting go of one of her hands but maintaining his grip on the other. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
He’d still call and have some food brought up—something that would go easy on an upset stomach and would keep overnight. She might not be hungry now, but in an hour that could change. If she managed to sleep, she’d definitely wake up hungry.
She must have seen something on his face, because she gave a wry smile. “You’re something of a mother hen.”
“I’m worried about you. Let me fuss.”
They made it back to his room without running into anyone, a small miracle, and he locked the door for good measure. “Sit. I’ll grab you some clothes.”
It was a token of how shaken up she was that she actually did what he told her instead of insisting she was capable of doing it herself. He headed for the bathroom to grab a washcloth to finish cleaning off the blood, then paused in the doorway. Charlie looked so small sitting on the end of his bed, her head bowed and her shoulders shaking, just a little.
He didn’t know how to do this. Aiden was the sword and shield that stood between his family and the rest of the world. He wasn’t a nurturer. It was so much easier to fight than it was to comfort.
For Charlie, he’d learn. “I’ll take care of you, bright eyes. I promise.”
Chapter Nineteen
Charlie knew better than to dwell on what-if. What-if didn’t matter. What could have happened was irrelevant. Whatdidhappen was all that mattered. At least in theory.
The truth was that she kept replaying the drive-by and counting down the seconds from when Keira ran into the room until the bullets pierced the glass in the same spot they’d been sitting. Thirty, maybe thirty-five. Not even a full minute’s difference between life and death.
You’re okay. You’re all okay. That’s all that matters.
It didn’t seem like it. She should have known there was danger. Hadn’t she just told Aiden that very thing last night? And then she just waltzed out to lunch and picked a table near a window, as if that danger was all in her head. Reckless. Very, very reckless.
“Charlie.” Aiden sat next to her on the bed, a washcloth in his hands. He tipped her chin up and slowly ran it over her face. “Talk to me.”
Words bubbled up, pressing against the back of her lips, despite the fact that she wasn’t usually a sharer. Apparently, two years out of commission was all it took for that hard-won training to disappear like it’d never existed. “It was close. Too close. If Keira hadn’t come back when she did…” She shuddered. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually such a basket case.”
He didn’t speak until he’d finished with her face and moved on to her shoulders. “Lift your arms.” He carefully maneuvered her T-shirt off and threw it in the trash can next to the dresser. “It’s okay to be shaken up.I’mshaken up. When I saw you in that car, covered in blood”—his hand hitched and then resumed its path along her collarbone—“that scared the shit out of me.”
Strangely enough, his admission of fear calmed her. She covered his hand with hers, fighting not to flinch at the pain that shot through her arm. “I’m okay. I’ve said it, and I’ll keep saying it until we both believe it.”
