McCoy (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 3)

I wouldn't say McCoy was nice. He was a bit gruff and standoffish, not someone prone to smiling. But he was kind. He'd shown me nothing but kindness since the moment he'd met me, even when I'd brought nothing but problems to his door.

"Kind is good," Belle decided. "I'm cold."

"Okay. No problem. One second," I said, nearly falling over the coffee table I turned so fast to run to get her one of the heavy blankets from my closet. "There. That's better," I said after tucking her in up to her neck. "Oh, that must be him," I added when there was a quiet tap at the door. "You'll be feeling better in no time now," I added as I went on my tiptoes to check the peephole.

"Hey, babe," McCoy greeted me, not offering me a smile because it wasn't like him, but there was a sweet softness in his eye as he moved past me and into the apartment, giving me a second to lock the door. "How's she doing?"

"She's been sipping water," I said. "She's cold."

"It's because she's hungry and tired," he told me. "Let's get some of this in her," he said, following me toward the couch, sitting down on the coffee table as I dropped down next to my sister, reaching for her hand under the blanket, and warming it between mine.

"This is McCoy," I told her. "McCoy, this is Belle."

"Hey, Belle. Heard you're feeling like shit," he said as he dug through one of the bags he'd brought.

"Yeah," Belle agreed, giving him a weak nod.

"Got a lot of stuff for that," he told her. "Starting with this. Powdered IV type fluids," he explained, ripping open a box and then a little packet, dropping it into the glass of water I'd been giving her. "Sip this. We also have some sports drinks, coconut water, and fruit juices. Once we get some of this in you, we will have you choke down a bit of a protein bar," he informed her.

"Ew," Belle and I said in unison, getting a snort from McCoy.

"Yeah, not my favorite either, but has a lot of nutrients in them. After we're sure you're feeling better, we will order you anything you want. Got a favorite food?" he asked, tipping up the glass when she lowered it again.

"Baked ziti," Belle told him after another sip.

"Sounds good. What would your sister order?" he asked, clearly trying to keep Belle up and engaged.

"Eggplant parm sub," Belle told her. "With garlic knots."

"Can't forget those," McCoy agreed.

"You?" Belle asked, gaze slipping away as she became more awake and aware. Timidity was her default setting, especially around men. I was sure her experience over the last few days didn't help that either.

"Me, I'm not picky. Can't go wrong with anything Italian. But I haven't had any good lasagne in a while."

"Shy makes a great lasagne. Except for the mushrooms," Belle declared, wrinkling her nose at the very idea.

Belle had strong opinions on mushrooms.

How can you eat them? They're so spongy.

They're actual fungus, Shy!

"I don't mind some mushrooms," McCoy told Belle as he reached into his bag to find a protein bar, tearing it open. "I went with chocolate since even a crappy protein bar tastes better when it has chocolate on and in it," he went on, pulling off a small bit and passing it to Belle. "Gross?" he asked when she slipped a bit into her mouth.

"Kind of," Belle agreed, and sipped more water to wash it down.

"Can I borrow your sister for a minute?" he asked, making me stiffen. "Just a minute," he added, but I felt like he was trying to reassure me more than Belle.

"Yeah. Can you get me Max?" she asked, looking at me.

"Absolutely," I agreed, giving her a smile as I released her to move to stand, then follow McCoy down the hall, both of us veering off into my bedroom.

"She's going to be alright, babe," he told me, starting to reach out toward me, but dropping his arm at the last moment. "She's perking up a bit already. She's not going to be anywhere near one-hundred-percent until she is fully hydrated and eating again, plus getting some much-needed sleep."

"She has a bruise on her temple," I said, voice small.

"Saw that," he agreed, nodding. "It probably looks worse than it is. Once she's had some rest, we can ask if she has any headaches or dizziness or anything, just so we know if she got a concussion, but until she has drank and eaten, we won't be able to tell if headaches are from that, or from a concussion. Just need a day or so," he told me.

"Do you think they... did, you know, anything else?" I asked, bile rising up my throat.

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head, eyes a little dark. "And I don't think you should press her right now. There will be a time to talk about it, but right now, she just needs you to take care of her."