Piece by Piece (Riggins Brothers 2)

“Can she come back from this?” I ask them.

“She’s strong,” Sawyer tells me. “So damn strong. She’s going to need you, but yeah, she can come back from this.”

“I can’t take her back to that house. I can’t make her live there.”

“You can stay with us.”

“Thanks.” I nod. “Mom and Dad offered too.”

“Whatever you need,” Royce states. His hand on my shoulder tightens, giving me his support. “We’re going to head out. Mom and Dad are on their way, and Con, Grant, and Marsh are in the waiting room.”

“Thanks for this.” I hold up the ring box. Royce nods.

Sawyer gives me another hug before turning and leaning in to kiss Layla on the cheek. “He needs you,” she whispers. “Get better soon.”

Fuck me. Hot tears prick my eyes, but I push them back. Not seconds after they leave, my other three brothers come walking into the room. “We’re here, brother,” Grant says solemnly. He gives me a hug, and the other two do the same. Every day I’ve sat here with my girl, my family has been here multiple times to visit and offer their support.

She’s here in this bed because she was protecting my family and me. We all know that, and the fact is, they loved her before all of this, now she’s one of us regardless of whether or not we’re together. However, we’re going to be together. That little black box in my pocket ensures that.

I’m not giving up until this woman agrees to marry me and has my last name.

“You need anything?” Marshall asks.

He’s taking it the hardest. He blames himself for letting her leave the office. He had no way of knowing what was going to happen. He isn’t to blame, and I’ve been telling him that. If anything, I owe him for his quick thinking and getting me to the house as fast as he did. He called in the Riggins cavalry. I don’t think he’s going to let the guilt go anytime soon. Maybe when Layla wakes up, she can convince him.

“No. You’ve done enough. You brought me to her.”

“Not soon enough, brother,” he says sadly.

“This isn’t on you, Marsh,” I tell him. He nods, but I can see in his eyes he’s blaming himself, no matter what I say about it.

“We’re going to get out of here. Mom is pacing out there to get in here and see the two of you.” Grant grins.

“They were here earlier today.”

“You know, Mom. She’s a worrywart when one of her kids is hurting. This time it’s two of them,” Conrad says.

He has no idea how much his words mean to me. That my family sees and accepts how incredible the woman is who’s stolen every last piece of my heart.

“Thanks for stopping by,” I tell my brothers.

“Oh, here.” Marshall hands me a bag that I didn’t see until now. “Just a couple of bottles of sweet tea, some Combos, beef jerky. I thought you could use some snacks.”

“Thanks, Marsh.”

He nods.

After a round of goodbyes, my brothers leave, and my parents push open the door. “I didn’t think they would ever leave,” my mom says, going to the opposite side of the bed. I watch as she gently picks up Layla’s hand, mindful of her IV and holds it in hers. “How’s our girl doing?” Mom asks.

“G-Good,” I say, clearing my throat. “At least that’s what they tell me. I just want her to wake up and stay awake. I want to hear her voice and see those baby blues,” I say, looking at Layla. Her eye is still swollen shut, and her face appears to have every color under the rainbow from the bruising. The doctors assure me it’s all normal and a part of the healing process. I hate it. Every time I look at her, I want to go down to the jail and strangle her mother and Don for doing this to her.

“She’s healing, Owen. It’s going to take some time, but she’s going to be okay. None of her injuries are life-threatening. The concussion gave them pause, but she’s showing great improvement.” My mother recites what the doctors told me word for word. That tells me that she’s been harassing the medical staff, which has my mouth tilting in a grin.

“You know how she is,” Dad says. “When it’s one of her babies, she takes charge, and I’m not the only man who can’t say no to her.” He chuckles.

“Hush,” she says, her smile wide. “I wanted to make sure we weren’t missing anything.” She places Layla’s hand back on the bed and digs into her purse. She pulls out some kind of wipes and begins to carefully wipe at Layla’s face.

“Mom, what are you doing?”

“These are going to make her feel fresh. She’s going to feel all nasty when she wakes up. I’m hoping this will help.”