Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

Michael tensed at my side, and I glanced up at him as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Yeah, he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

“I could leave,” Emery offered.

Vaughn gave her a slight shake of his head and then turned to the nurse. “Mabel, is it?” He flashed her a rare but beautiful smile. “Surely you won’t deny them their chance to visit? Their best friend was shot, and they’re scared. They need some reassurance.”

Mabel exhaled heavily under his potent stare. “Fine. They can stay. But keep it down. Ms. McGuire needs her rest.”

Cooper clapped Vaughn on the back and then leaned over to give his wife a quick kiss. His eyes came to me. “I’ll see you soon, Wonder Woman.”

I rolled my eyes but nodded.

Vaughn surprised me by coming over to the bed to press a kiss to my forehead. “Glad you’re okay. I don’t know what she’d do without you.” He nodded at Bailey.

I gave him a fond smile of thanks.

Once the men—with the exception of Michael, of course—had departed, the girls pulled up seats around my bed. Once they had reassurances from me that I was okay, they chatted about the events of the last twenty-four hours. Their voices washed over me like a soothing bubble bath, and the comfort of having all my soul mates in the same room drew me into a healing sleep.

* * *

Whispers filtered into my subconscious, tugging me upward and out of the dark until my eyelids fluttered against the light.

My vision cleared and I took in the hospital room, remembering that Freddie Jackson had shot me.

Last time I’d been awake, the girls and Michael had been in the room with me.

Now I was surrounded.

I guess Mabel had lost her battle against the force of the McGuires.

An ache flared in my shoulder, but despite it, I smiled to see my family.

Dad occupied the chair Michael had when I’d first woken up, and he was whispering across the bed to Darragh, leaning against the wall with his ankles crossed. Davina was in the seat next to Dad, curled up with her knees to her chest, her head on her hand as she slept.

Dermot was sprawled across a chair on the other side of my bed, his head hanging back, his mouth open while he snored.

“How is anyone supposed to recover from a gunshot wound around here with that kind of racket going on?” I grumbled.

“Dahlia!” Dad was louder than I knew he meant to be as he pushed out of the chair to press his cheek to mine. “God, Bluebell, you scared me to death.”

“I’m okay, Dad.” I patted his back.

Awake now, Dermot and Davina took turns hugging me gingerly after Darragh let go.

“Krista’s with the boys in the cafeteria,” Darragh said. “They’ll be right back.”

“Astrid is out of town,” Davina added. “But she’s flying out here today.”

“I, uh … I told Mom,” Dermot hesitated to say. “She’s … she’s not coming.”

Even though I wasn’t surprised, it stung. My mother’s desertion would always be a wound buried deep in my chest.

“And I’m fuckin’ done with her,” Darragh bit out.

I flinched, not wanting that. “Dar, don’t.”

“No, Dahlia. Your kid gets shot, you get your ass on a plane to make sure she’s all right. I don’t want anything to do with her anymore.”