He swallowed hard, and I wished I could wrap my arms around him to tell him he wasn’t alone anymore. He had me. Ronan wore the grief of his parents’ loss like those tattoos covering his skin—a deep, everlasting sadness that colored every move he’d made since the accident. I blinked to clear my eyes and saw from the watery smiles of the others that I wasn’t the only one affected.
He continued. “I’m lucky to have the means to give back, and though it’s not much, I’m hoping there will be other donations to help.”
“Not much? It’s a wonderful gift. It will be so good for the children to always have new books, toys, and games. Thank you again.” Dorothy hugged him, and he turned red and ducked his head.
“You’re welcome. I’d better go hand out the books.”
And then all hell broke loose when the woman I’d noticed earlier staring at Ronan screamed, “You think this makes up for what you’ve done?” She raced up to him and threw the contents of a large cardboard coffee cup at him.
“Get down.” I pushed Ronan to the floor and fell on top of him, but I couldn’t avoid receiving the brunt of the scalding liquid over my face and neck. I hissed at the pain, and Ronan wriggled out from under me.
“Get her,” he snarled, taking off after the woman.
I sprang to my feet, ignoring the pain, and ran to Ronan, who was pounding the elevator doors.
“Ronan, get over here.”
“Dammit, she slipped inside just as the doors were closing.” Anxious eyes searched my face. “You’re hurt.” He reached out and trailed gentle fingers over my face. “You need to see a doctor.” Ronan called out, “Can someone help him?”
“I’m fine,” I protested, but Ronan being Ronan, ignored me and waved to Dorothy, who rushed up to us.
“Are you hurt? Did she get away? This is terrible. I’m so sorry.” Lines of worry scored her smooth forehead, and her voice quavered.
While it did hurt, I was more concerned about the woman making a getaway and popping up again sometime. But before I could answer, Ronan jumped in.
“His face is red. I’m afraid it might blister. Can you get a doctor?” Ronan glanced around. “We’re in a hospital. Someone has to be able to help him.”
“I’ll find someone. Come with me.”
Irritated that I was the focus while that person was getting away, I brushed Ronan’s hands from me. “I wanted to go after her.”
“Let her go. You’re more important.” Ronan took my hand and squeezed it. “Let’s go and get your face seen by a doctor. Please.”
With one last frustrated glance at the elevator, I allowed Ronan to lead me away.
***
My mother took one look at my face when I opened the door, and all the plans of a simple evening, catching up and them getting to know each other, went out the window. I brought her inside, hoping she’d sit before the interrogation began, but no such luck. She planted herself in front of me with her hands on her hips, demanding answers.
“What happened to your face? Why is it all red? Are you hurt?”
The doctors had given me a salve to put over the reddened parts and were optimistic that there wouldn’t be any scars, but I knew from my reflection in the mirror that it wasn’t a pretty sight.
“I had a run-in with an angry woman who threw hot coffee on Ronan.”
“So it got you instead? You could’ve been seriously hurt.”
Ronan stood to the side, watching us, and he winced at my mother’s words.
“Mom. You do realize my job is personal protection. I’ve been in far worse situations than having coffee in my face.”
“Yes, I’m aware. It’s one of the reasons I never liked you going into such dangerous work. Maybe it’s time for you to reconsider it.”
It was something she brought up constantly. My mother wanted me to pursue law school and get a high-paying job, while I got hives at the thought of going into an office every day and sitting behind a desk or poring over books in the library. As she spoke, I grew frustrated that we were once again revisiting this topic.
“No. Not going to happen. I’m sorry you’re dissatisfied with my choices, but they’re mine. I love what I do.”
Lips pursed, she shook her head. “So stubborn. You don’t understand how hard it is for me to know you’re constantly at risk. But I don’t want to continue to argue about this. At least not now.” Turning to Ronan, she held out her hand. “I’m sorry I hijacked our first meeting by berating Gabriel. So nice to meet you.”
