Filthy (Diamondback MC 5)

Seven

Fallon

The news that was delivered sucked. No, it more than sucked. It ate at my soul, swallowing me in a pit of utter depression. Until Cole did the unthinkable. Where most people would talk you to death, he sat beside me in what had to be the worst chapter ever and just held my hand until I could clear my head.

“I’m okay, Cole.” My head is still on the pillow, my eyes opening, seeing him looking right at me, as if he can sense everything I’m feeling and thinking.

“I know you are. When your parents get back, we’ll talk about what’s happening next. By then, Shovel and Persephone should have all of your things packed up. Then I’ll try to break you out of this jail.” He winks, attempting to make things light and not so heavy.

“Okay, I promise I’m not usually this meek woman. I’m just tired. I knew I should have moved farther away, but the thought of leaving Texas pulled at my heart strings, and not being close to my parents in case something happened. It would have killed me,” I tell Cole, allowing him to make these plans for me. I’m truly not that person. I’m the planner, the doer, the overachiever. Now that my heart has been put on the line in the very real sense, I just want to breathe easy. So, I guess that means doing things Cole’s way. Plus, it’s not like he’s too bad to look at.

“Woman, I knew that the minute you put a guy in his place for attempting to smack your ass the first night I set eyes on you at the diner. There’s a reason I keep going in there. I can guarantee you it’s not the coffee,” Cole jokes.

“Oh, we all know the reason you’re at the diner so much is because you can’t cook worth shit, Dad.” I laugh at that, because I often wondered why Cole was in as often as he is.

“Hey, I thought you went home,” Cole says, a smile on the edge of his lips.

“Someone has to tell Fallon all of your downfalls. Don’t trust his cooking. He once burnt cinnamon rolls so badly, the dog wouldn’t eat them. Also, I wanted to check in. They seem to be taking their sweet time releasing you.” Monroe isn’t in her scrubs she was wearing earlier on in this hospital stay I’m still dealing with, that I’m absolutely hating. Instead, she’s in a tank top, shorts, a flannel shirt wrapped around her waist, and boots.

“I kind of had a feeling cooking wasn’t his strong suit. You didn’t have to come back to check on me. Thank you, though.” I sit up, or attempt to. Cole helps me, his crisp woodsy scent surrounding me, strong hands helping me get situated. It’s enough to make me flustered.

“Eh, I kind of assumed you didn’t want to wear scrubs or a hospital gown out of here. So, I brought you some clothes and shoes.” It’s then I see she’s holding a Walmart bag in her hand.

“Oh God, I didn’t even think about that. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Who’s a lifesaver? I thought that was a doctor’s job.” My parents come back with sacksful of food, enough to feed the whole floor.

“Monroe. Mom, Dad, this is Cole’s daughter, Monroe. Monroe, this is my mom, Charleigh, and my dad, Russell.” Monroe goes to shake my mom’s hand. That doesn’t happen as she pulls her in for a hug. My dad snickers and takes Monroe’s hand afterwards.

“Okay, it’s time to eat.” Mom claps her hands together, and Dad helps her dole out the food, my stomach grumbling as soon as I smell the starchy fried potatoes it craves.

“You know your mom. If she can’t cook, she’s going to buy enough to feed everyone.” Dad goes with the flow when it comes to Mom.

“I’m heading out. I was just dropping clothes off. Hunter’s home, so I’m going to enjoy the day with him. I’ll see you later, Fallon. Daddy, be nice to her. Don’t be an overbearing doctor.” She comes to me, giving my hand a squeeze, the other one that her father isn’t holding, a serene look coming over her face when she notices my hand in Cole’s.

“Thank you, Monroe.”

“Anytime.” She waves her goodbyes to everyone.

“I’m going to walk her out. Be right back, Fallon.” Cole kisses my cheek, squeezes my hand, and then saunters after his daughter—yes, that man saunters, long legged, rock-hard body for days.

“Okay.” I wait for him to leave. My mom’s eyebrows are at her hairline, chomping at the bit to talk about Cole. Dad looks to be doing the same.

“You can question me to death, but for the love of all that is holy, give me food and my Diet Coke.” My dad chuckles knowing I’m on the verge of getting hangry, so he hands over my food, giving me what I need the most—food and caffeine.