We are calm and are approaching this like business, but we both know it’s not. I’m not going to be able to breathe normally until I see Belle with my own eyes.
“Who patched him up? I don’t want a bunch of people in on this.”
“I used to be a medic when I was in the service,” E-Z shrugs as I stare at him. How did I not fucking know that? “No one knows anything. I know you want to deliver justice, but we should do so quietly. You’re pissed, Killian. I am too, but we don’t need to cause an all-out war with the Bratva.”
I sit completely still just looking at him. I know where he’s going with this, and I can’t promise anything. I don’t want a war with them, but knowing Belle is in the hospital because of her association with me makes my blood boil. I’m ready to get the hell out of here. I thought I felt caged before, but it’s so much worse now. Unless Ryan can make like a damn magician and pull some tricks, there’s no way that I can protect Belle. That fact is slapping me blatantly in the face right now.
CHAPTER 34
BELLE
Two Days Later
I snuggle into Killian’s warm arms as he kisses along the back of my neck, whispering to me that I will never be hurt again. Edges of consciousness seep in trying to pull me from my dream, bringing with it the sensation of pain. I try to fight it off—wanting to stay asleep. I want to stay with Killian and pretend his arms around me are real. The pain is too insistent, though.
It doesn’t seem fair that I have to force myself to wake up. Waking up means I’ll be alone in my bed—a very lonesome, empty bed. The whole house feels empty and it’s not.
I mean, Mavis is here, and E-Z has insisted on sleeping on the couch. Still, without Killian, it feels so lonely that I can’t begin to describe it.
I breathe out a sigh as the dream beckons me again. Killian’s soft kisses try to lure me back, and I want them to. I let myself enjoy it as he whispers my name in my ear, his arm going around me, and his fingers splaying out against the soft skin of my tummy. It’s so real that I swear I can feel the warmth of his breath.
It’s heaven.
I gently roll myself over onto my back, reluctantly opening my eyes. I scream out in surprise, my heart jumping to my throat when I see Killian staring at me. His lips capture mine, stifling my cry. His kiss is warm and gentle. After my shock fades, I settle into it, giving him everything his mouth is demanding—all while praying I’m wide awake and haven’t sunk into some type of comatose dream that I’ve heard people with concussions have.
“Are you… real?” I whisper, touching my lips as we break apart.
“I’m real, Belle. This is real,” he whispers.
“You’re in my bed?” I ask, still not quite believing it.
“I’m here. You’re okay,” he murmurs between short, soft kisses.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, pulling back, still desperate to make sure I’m not imagining all of this. I run my hand through his hair. I cup his cheek desperate to touch him, to be positive that he’s real. When he smiles down at me, his warm skin pressing against the palm of my hand, I’m suddenly more aware of the butterflies in my belly than the pain from my injuries.
“Ryan finagled an emergency release for a couple of days. Although, I’m still under house arrest.”
“How?” I gasp.
“Because you were attacked. He got a judge to agree after a doctor got creative with your prognosis,” he says. He’s smiling as if to reassure me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s a dark shadow that crosses over his face as he’s talking, too. Sometimes, Killian is like a coin. I can only see one side of him. There’s a darker side I get glimpses of that should scare me. I know Killian is also a man who leads a ruthless, illegal, business. A business in which people die. I won’t ever ask, but I’m sure Killian is responsible for some of those deaths. I don’t want to know. It may make me a bad person, but I’m not going to question it. After being faced down by those men—who were apparently Orla’s nephews—I’ve seen real evil, and it’s not Killian.
“I don’t understand how Ryan did all of this,” I admit.
“It’s been arranged, but it doesn’t truly matter, Belle. The important thing is that I’m here with you. I’m going to take care of you,” he says softly.
“You two arranged this just because of me?” I ask, awe filling my voice. I’m overwhelmed. In my whole life, I can’t remember being cared for enough that someone would make decisions solely for my benefit.