“I know, angel. I know. We’ve got you.”
“Never had someone care,” I murmur as my head rests heavily against the porcelain.
God, I’m so tired. All I want to do is sleep.
“Hey now. Stay with us, angel.”
But I can’t.
* * *
Atticus
I’ve gone from being pissed at this woman for breaking into our house to worried that she’s going to die. Her body goes limp, and I barely catch her before she falls onto the floor. When I look up, my brothers are just as worried.
Oliver asks, “Peters?”
Everyone knows poison is Peters’ trademark, and he’s had beef with us since we sided with Hook and Company. Fool. If he’s behind this, he’s only put an even bigger target on his back.
I say, “He better hope not.”
Carefully, I carry Goldie to my bed. She groans as if she’s in pain, and it guts me.
“It’s okay, angel. We’re going to figure this out.”
I just pray I’m right.
5
Goldie
Everything, and I mean everything, hurts. I feel like I’ve run a marathon, been shot, and did a million crunches. Groaning, I roll over. Except I’m not on the cheap couch I’ve been crashing on for the last few weeks. And there’s a very warm male body next to me in the bed. Opening one eye, I get a look at the man next to me and everything comes flooding back.
The failed robbery. Getting shot. Sneaking into the house, where I assume I still am. Three hotties finding me. Then getting sick. So, so, so sick. I rub my stomach just thinking about it. Except when I move, I realize the man next to me has his leg thrown over my legs. And I’m pretty sure that’s his cock poking my side. I’m only partly sure because it feels like an iron rod. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I lift the sheets to look.
“See something you like, angel?”
My cheeks flame, but I reply, “Just seeing what’s poking my side.”
He rocks into me, stealing my breath. Oh yeah. That’s definitely his cock.
“Are your brothers as hung as you?”
Sometimes, I surprise myself with the things that come out of my mouth. If I still had a mother, I’m sure she’d be appalled by my behavior.
He laughs. “Can’t say that I make it a habit to check out their dicks.”
“You’re no fun.”
“So it’s fun you’re looking for?”
Why does his voice sound even better this morning? More growly and deep.
“I’m not sure what I’m looking for,” I finally say.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
That I can answer.