“I don’t fuckin’ know. Maddox asked me to accompany her to the hospital. The tension between them is thick. But the girl is stubborn as fuck. She all but kicked me out of her hospital room earlier, and then I took her food, and she was different.” I meet Lucifer’s gaze. “I don’t know what to think about her.”
“Might want to tread carefully,” he advises. “Especially if we’re about to rip her inheritance out from under her.”
“Damn right.” I grunt and throw myself in one of the chairs in front of Lucifer’s desk. Everything in this room is simple, just like this chair, yet it’s comfortable. “I told her to let me know when they were ready to release her from the hospital. Her words were, ‘You don’t have to do that, I can get a ride back to the ranch myself.’ The way she said it pissed me off.”
“Jesus, fuck. You’re into her,” Lucifer says.
“Not into her,” I grunt, denying his words, but even as they come out of my mouth, I know they’re a lie. What the hell is it about Della Meadows?
“I don’t need to tell you how it would be a bad idea, do I?”
“No, but gotta say there’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on. Regardless, no way am I going to do anything that could fuck up this deal.” Definitely not now with this latest bullshit hanging over my head.
Lucifer stares at me for a beat before changing the subject.
“We better go see Nightmare.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. The best thing I can do is get through this, then move on to the next thing and not worry about what the hell I’m thinking regarding a woman like Della.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Della
“A cab, Della, really?” Maddox says as the cab pulls down the lane, heading back for the road. “I would’ve picked you up. All you had to do was call.”
I shrug, not meeting his gaze. An exasperated sigh leaves his lips. I didn’t want to look at him. It’s embarrassing enough what happened yesterday. I was lucky enough that the doctors let me go first thing this morning and didn’t keep me longer. They made sure I knew to contact the family doctor if I start to feel any symptoms, and I promised I would. I just wanted out of there.
“I figured you’d be working.”
“I would’ve stopped working.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to bother you.” The last thing I want is to bug anyone into doing anything for me. If he was so concerned, he could’ve come to the hospital yesterday, but he didn’t. I’d point that out to him, but I don’t want to fight with him. I want to go in the house, get a shower, and get out of these clothes. I didn’t have anything else to change into, so I put on the ones I had on yesterday.
“It’s fine. I’m home. I’m heading in to take a shower and change.” I hope Judy has coffee on and maybe something I could eat. I’m starving.
“We need to talk, Della,” Maddox states as I head for the porch. “Sooner rather than later.”
“I know,” I tell him, not looking back.
At the hospital, lying there awake after Shadow left, I had way too much time to think. I thought about the Will. About what Maddox said the other night. About the past.
Being alone with my thoughts is never a good thing. It hasn’t been for years.
Stepping into the house, I’m hit with the immediate aroma of delicious blueberry muffins. I follow the smell and my stomach growls.
When I step into the kitchen, I see Judy at the sink, washing dishes by hand. We have a dishwasher, and yet she always insists on washing them by hand. Well, most of them at least.
“Hey,” I call and grab one of the muffins from the stash in the middle of the table.
“You’re on my shit list, young lady,” Judy states calmly, turning around to face me, wiping her hands on a towel that she keeps at the sink.
“I’m sorry.”
“You get bit by a rattler, end up in the hospital, and you don’t call anyone to tell any of us how you are.” Judy narrows her eyes, tosses the towel down, and plants those hands on her hips, looking every bit of a perturbed mother. “The least you could have done was call to let us all know you were okay. We had to hear updates about you from Shadow.”
“I didn’t want to bother anyone,” I try, though I know the excuse is lame when it comes to this woman.
“That’s no excuse, and you know it,” Judy snaps, pointing her finger at me. “Sit your hind-pots down.”
