Confess (Sin City Salvation 1)
But he wasn’t.
He wasn’t better even after four hours, and by the time the moon came out, his fever had spiked to a dangerous level. He was delirious but still managed to respond when I roused him.
“Lucian, we need to go to the hospital. This isn’t normal.”
“My phone,” he croaked.
I fished around in his pocket for his phone, and he gestured for it. He typed out two texts before dropping it beside him and sinking back into the couch.
He wasn’t moving, and I didn’t know what to do. I checked the last message he sent, and realized he’d asked Ace to come over. But Ace wasn’t the only one to show up. When the doorbell sounded, and I answered it, I was surprised to see the same priest I’d been confessing my sins to for the last year.
“Father Hawk, what are you doing here?”
“Lucian texted me,” he explained. “I’m here to take him to the hospital.”
“Oh.” I opened the door and let him inside. “Thank you. I’ll just grab my shoes, and we can go.”
He stopped and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you can’t. He just wants me to take him.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue,” Ace said as he strode into the house. “You know by now it’s a waste of time. Besides, you’ll have me here to keep you company.”
I glanced at Lucian on the couch. I guess it didn’t matter that he didn’t want me there with him as long as he was going to see a doctor. But it didn’t change the fact that I was worried about him, and I didn’t even know why. Maybe it was just basic human decency, or maybe he’d found a way under my skin already. Regardless, I couldn’t deny the strange need I felt to go with him.
“Just take him to the hospital,” I pleaded. “He needs to go.”
Father Hawk and Ace loaded him into the car while I watched from the doorway. By this point, he was barely conscious, and I couldn’t say a word to him. Even if I could have, I didn’t know what it would be.
I hardly knew the guy. We were married, but that was just a piece of paper, really. That technicality didn’t make me feel any better when I watched Father Hawk drive away with my new husband.
AFTER AN ENTIRE DAY IN the hospital, I wasn’t sure what I would find waiting for me at home. But Ace was on the couch napping, and beside him, Gypsy was flipping through a magazine. When she looked up, there was a flash of relief in her eyes, followed by indignation.
“I wasn’t sure you’d even still be here,” I mused.
“Trust me,” she mumbled. “I considered leaving more than a few times.”
I didn’t ask her why she hadn’t. We both knew why she was here. It wasn’t because she was afraid of going to prison. She wanted to protect her sister, and as miserable as she might be here, she wouldn’t jeopardize Birdie in any way.
“Well?” She set down the magazine and stood. “What happened?”
“I’m fine,” I told her. “The fever broke, and they let me go.”
It wasn’t exactly the whole truth. I’d gone round and round with the doctors—as I usually did—but in the end, I discharged myself.
Gypsy bit her lip and held her hands together in a way that reminded me how fragile she could be. “So it was bronchitis then?”
Her eyes were soft and open, and I didn’t want to lie to her. I chose deflection, a cheap ploy. “Did you ever finish your list?”
She blinked. “What list?”
“If you could do anything with your life,” I said.
“Oh. Yes.”
“Do you have it?”
“It’s in my purse.” She didn’t look like she wanted to show me, but she would regardless.
I took a seat on the empty space of the couch. “Go get it.”
“Right now?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes, pet. Right now.”
“Glad to know you’re feeling like your old self again,” she murmured as she walked down the hall.
While she was gone, I thanked Ace and sent him home to relax. Gypsy returned a few minutes later with the piece of paper in her hand, her body rigid when she forked it over. “This is stupid, by the way,” she pointed out.
I looked at the list and couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at my lips. Her goals were ordered as I requested. All three of them.
Become a millionaire and retire early
Travel around the world
Get a boring, normal job
I was sure she expected me to chalk it up to sarcasm, but the thing about Gypsy was that she needed those boundaries. She craved them even though she couldn’t admit it to herself. When I looked at her, I saw the broken little girl who never had a chance to have those things. She’d been taking care of herself and Birdie so long that she had no idea what it was like to let someone take care of her. It was time she finally learned.