“Someone talk to him. Tell the boss I’m fine.” My head felt awful, and it would probably take a while for me to feel right. Maybe some of that was from getting thrown off my feet earlier.
“Sure. Look, that’s a bad idea,” Rowen said, glancing around at everyone.
Aspen sighed and studied me. “He’s right, you shouldn’t be out.”
Betrayal flashed hot through me. “You’re supposed to have my back,” I whispered.
His expression closed down and it was worse than dealing with him when I’d first met him because I knew what he looked like when he opened up to me. “We gotta go back to the city. Let Vail take care of you.”
Fury ate at me. “I spent enough time down and out.”
Aspen bent and tried to press his lips to mine, but I turned away, so he grabbed my chin and moved me until I was facing him. His cold facade cracked and he smirked before eating at my lips with his. He pressed me back until my head leaned against the couch, then straightened. “Be a good boy and stay here.”
I glared at his back as he left the room, but he didn’t seem to care.
“That was condescending,” Vail murmured. Sometimes I was shocked by how perceptive he could be, and I snorted, glancing at him.
“You know I can knock all of them on their asses when I don’t have busted-up ribs,” I grumped.
“That’s the point.” He gave me a sweet smile that had me groaning.
“Can I lay my head on your lap and be mad for a while?”
He chuckled, nodded, and went one better, stretching out on the couch and letting me lie on his chest while he worked his fingers through my hair. I hated to admit it, but I wasn’t feeling as well as I thought I would once I got some insulin. Maybe I was just fucking tired out from the little bit of running around we’d done.
“Fuck,” I mumbled.
Vail shushed me and kissed my forehead.
15
ASPEN
My eyes were closedas I took a deep breath. I’d kept my panic perfectly hidden just like I’d been trained to do, but Fallon’s unusual behavior had frightened me. It’d taken too long for Nick to get here, and the only thing that had kept me calm was Cillian’s hand on my shoulder, like he’d known how I felt and wanted to give me his silent strength. A lot of people thought Cillian was cruel and heartless, but beneath that brick exterior was a man who cared, even if he didn’t know how to show it. He’d been letting go of his defenses a little more since Vail entered our lives, but that didn’t mean he was ready to show the world there was an actual human in him.
Fallon’s change in position scared me even more. I couldn’t keep an eye on him if he was Conall’s bodyguard, and whilemostcriminals weren’t dumb enough to target the boss’s pet, it didn’t mean someone wouldn’t come after him and put Fallon’s life in danger.
The wall I was leaning on began to hurt my shoulder and I straightened, opening my eyes and turning my attention to Cillian and Rowen. Cillian had his back against the wall on the other side of the hallway, stroking his thumb over his bottom lip in thought, while Rowen was rocking on his feet near Cillian, gaze on the floor. Sloan had texted us to wait here for him until he was done with Conall. I didn’t know what he had planned, but it wasn’t going to be pretty—anyone who hurt his pet dealt with severe consequences. One of the Italian mobsters who’d kidnapped Conall and dug a knife into his shoulder had learned that lesson. His head was given back to his biological father in an ice cooler.
“Who do ye think’ll win the World Series this year? And don’t fecking tell me the Mets.” Cillian raised his gaze to me, brows furrowing. “Because that’s bullshite. They were bollocks last year.”
I rolled my eyes and gave him a half grin. This was his way of keeping my head in the game because if I focused too much on the problems, I’d fall into a deep hole that would take months for me to get out of. The last time that happened I’d strangled a man with a suit tie. Cillian was the only one able to pull me out and shake me back to reality.
“The Mets have it,” I whispered.
“Feck off.” Cillian shook his head and nudged Rowen. “Ye hear this shite?”
“Me money’s on the Royals,” Rowen said, and it earned him an abrupt laugh from Cillian.
“Ye feck off, too. The Royals have got nothing. It’s gonna be the wee Red Sox.”
“Houl yer whisht.Ye hate Boston,” Rowen argued with a rare smirk.
“Don’t mean I’m wrong.” He shrugged.
“If it’s not going to be the Mets, I’ll take the Dodgers.”
Cillian straightened and glared at me, pointing a finger in my direction. “Don’t ye say anything about those Cali motherfeckers. They’reeejits.”
