“I’m here, Wicked.” He brushed my hair back from my forehead.
“I’m glad.”
“What happened?”
“I picked up a desk.”
He whirled around on Holt. “You let her pick up a desk?” he growled. “She’s pregnant.”
“Like you could’ve stopped her.” My brother worried his lip between his teeth.
“It’s not his fault.”
Patrick focused his lethal stare back on me. “You’re done at the garage.”
“I’d say that’s a given considering it hurts to move.”
He clenched his jaw. “Gummy?”
“Fine. I pulled a muscle.”
“I want to speak to the doctor.”
I grabbed his hand to stop him and hissed. “Sit. Tell me about anything so I can think about something else.”
“If it’s just a pulled muscle, why are you still in here?”
“They’re running some tests to make sure everything is okay with the baby.”
I glared at Holt.
“You just said she’s fine.” Patrick clutched my hand.
“She is.” I lifted my chin, even though my head was buried in a pillow.
He placed a hand on my stomach. “Are you sure?” he whispered.
“I’m sure.”
“You scared me. I have no idea how I even got here.”
“I’ll be out of here in no time.”
“Ms. Linley.” The doctor rapped on the doorframe, clipboard in hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Like my lower back is being pulled in opposite directions.”
Holt covered his mouth with his hand. Patrick gripped the bed railing again.
“Everything looks good with you and the baby. The sprain in your back will cause you discomfort for a couple of weeks, but if you ice it a few times a day that will help. I see no reason to keep you overnight, so as soon as I finish the paperwork, you’re free to go.”
“Can we speed that along? I haven’t eaten in three hours.” The doctor chuckled. “This is no laughing matter.” I folded my arms and bit back a scream.
“I’ll have you out of here soon.” He made some notes on his chart. “No physical exertion for two weeks. Of any kind.”
“I have a fourteen month old. That’s impossible.”
“We’ll take care of it, sir.” Patrick extended his hand. “You’re sure they’ll both be okay?”
“Ms. Linley will have discomfort for a bit, but they’ll both be just fine.”
They shook, and the physician disappeared.
“What would you like to eat?” Patrick softened, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand.
“Cheese dip. Two bowls. And four chicken tacos. A beef one too.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Patrick
“Mr. Whitley. Is it true you solicited a federal agent for sex?”
I pushed Marlow through the throng of reporters.
“Is it true you’re seeking help for sexual addiction?”
Where the hell was the car I’d hired to take us home?
“Did you defend Heather Buchan’s brother in return for her silence?”
That woman had rained down hell on me. I made one mistake, something I could have done in Vegas legally. Now this shit.
“We’ve received word the New York Bar Association is suspending your law license. Do you plan to appeal?”
I spotted the SUV and eased Marlow in the back. The shouts and camera flashes were incessant, even when I closed us inside the car.
“We should’ve taken a back exit.” Marlow closed her eyes.
“You hurting?”
“No need to keep asking. The answer is yes.”
I rested my hand on her thigh. “If you wouldn’t have picked up that desk, you wouldn’t have to listen to my questions.”
“When are you taking off for sex rehab?” She snickered, then winced. “Do you get conjugal visits there?”
“Already missing me?”
“Didn’t you hear I’m out of commission for a few weeks?”
“Are you excited to watch me jack off? You know I do it multiple times a day?”
“You’re an ass.”
“So are you for what you did to me today. I’ve never felt panic like that.” And I never wanted to again.
Her hand covered mine. “Is it true? About your law license?”
“I haven’t received word. But if they nail me for something I wasn’t even charged with, they’re going to have to disbar half the association.”
“I still don’t understand why you offered someone money for sex in the first place.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I was shit-faced?”
“Did I miss the part on where you elaborated why?”
I hesitated, not enthusiastic to talk about this.
“I saw someone I hadn’t seen in a long, long time.” I leaned my head on the back of the seat.
“An old lover?”
“No.” My answer was too sharp, but I didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings.
“Who?”
“Someone I’d rather not see again. Can we forget about it?” I rubbed my fingers over my temples.
“Did you confront them?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t I ask if we could not talk about this?” My nerves were already on edge and this wasn’t helping.
“It’s making me feel better.”
I looked out the window. “That’s the whole story.” Of that day anyway.
“I don’t believe you.”
“The person is the reason my family has nothing to do with me.”
“Your family is stupid.” She shifted and grimaced. “Stupid shithead asshole fuckers.”
I squeezed her fingers in mine. “I thought that was me.”
“Sometimes. But they are all the time.”
I swallowed hard. It was nice to have someone support me. “Thanks.”
“You don’t need them.”
“You don’t know why they—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
My heart thrummed in my chest. This was what I’d been looking for since I was sixteen. Someone to have my back. It wasn’t fair to ask that of her when she didn’t know the truth.
“If you’re trying to make me forget about my back pain by crushing my hands, it’s not working.”
I loosened my grip. She smiled. Like she had at the beach. I allowed myself to have this moment. To be part of a we instead of solo.
“Is Blake staying with your dad tonight?”
“He thinks it’s best.”
“What do you think?”
“That if we have a night alone we should be able to make better use of it,” she complained, her mouth turning down.
“Was this your way of teaching me delayed gratification?”
“What good does that do me? I suffer right along with you.”
“I knew there was a reason I like you so much.”
“You
